


Who I Want to Be

by JSinister32



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Chiyoh is a bad ass, Feelings, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Murder, Porn With Plot, Revenge, Slow Burn, Will and Hannibal are awkward, Winston Returns, eventual murder husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 66,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25013614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32
Summary: Post s03e13 Wrath of the Lamb. There are moments in life when one decision irrevocably changes the path forward. Forging a new life together after the fall and in the wake of new troubles, Will and Hannibal learn what they can live with... and who they can't live without.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 43
Kudos: 175





	1. Pull Me Out of the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first work I've posted, so be kind. It was a story that (literally) would not leave me alone. I don't know how it ends yet, so we get to find out together.
> 
> I do not own any of the characters contained within.

_When the last hope couldn't be known_

_When the last chance was being alone_

_When the lights burn out_

_And you pull me out of the dark_

_And you pull me out of the dark._

_-Radford, Out of the Dark_

* * *

The fall from the cliff was not entirely planned, but they could not have begun the chapters yet to come any other way. From fire through waters they must pass to reach paradise, or some other nonsense like that. Will never thought it would hurt quite as much as it did, though.

The ocean felt like liquid bricks when they came crashing into its black depths and was far colder than he expected, icy needles threatening to atrophy his limbs shortly after impact. His cheek ached, the salt of the ocean like daggers in the wound Dolarhyde had carved. He never felt more alive but none of it mattered now, as Will understood that the impact would have been much more severe for Hannibal since he had taken a bullet. Since they did not have a chance to staunch the blood flow before Will’s decision to cast them off the cliff and into the waters below, they could very well become the older man’s tomb. It took him precious minutes to find the doctor and he was both dismayed and elated to discover that Hannibal was unconscious but still breathing. Will draped him over his shoulder as he attempted to swim them both to safety. Although he did not consciously care whether they lived or died when they fell, once they hit the water he knew that Hannibal was the one person he would never be able to live without, the man who could make him do anything, show him how to be anything. With those thoughts to fuel him, he kicked hard towards the faint lights in the distance marking what surely had to be a shoreline. He could hear Hannibal breathe raggedly as he slumped into him, still unmoving as Will struggled to propel their bulk through the water. He blinked the salt out of his eyes as often as possible and filled his chest painfully with air, hoping to buoy them along in the water, but they slowly began to lose ground as the tides shifted, pulling them away from the safety of land. Euphoria quickly turning to panic, he gripped Hannibal’s uninjured shoulder and shook as hard as he dared without causing further injury. He had to wake up, or they would be doomed.

“Hannibal? Hannibal! Wake up! Can you hear me?” He gasped water into his lungs as he took another breath, pulling the doctor along with all his strength. _God, please don’t let him be dead. Not after all of this. Please._ “Hannibal!” The injured man feebly stirred, a moan escaping his lips as he tried to take in his surroundings.

“Will…” The shaky breath he took in almost stopped Will's heart. He pulled Hannibal closer, cold lips to the doctor’s ear so he could hear him.

“I’ve almost got us to the shore where we can rest, at least for a little while. You have to help me. We are so close, but I’m losing strength." He shook the older man, hoping to bring him to himself. " Don't let us end like this. I need you.” Will knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t seem to stop the outpour of words that came from his mouth, even to preserve his breath to swim. He paddled his arm awkwardly, kicked his legs against the current that had been threatening to pull them away since they hit the water. The lights that shone down on them, his only hope since the fall, seemed to get further away as his strength waned, blurring in his desperation to reach them. Tears began to fall without him realizing, mixing with the vastness of the ocean. _Please. Just a little further._ He felt the cold water ebb and flow around him, as if it was a living being trying with a titan’s strength to keep him from his destination. Afraid to push the older man too hard, Will continued to fight, screaming into the water with his effort, his gasped breaths causing him to inhale saltwater from time to time. His grip on Hannibal didn't waver in its strength. He knew that they could never be separated again, even as he succumbed to the pull of the tide. _This is useless. I don’t know how I ever thought we could survive yet another tumble into the dark._ Exhausted, Will pulled air into his lungs, big deep breaths, taking the last bit of life he could, while he still could. _I am not strong enough._

His grip slipped momentarily as he lost sight of the lights. He felt his limbs begin to freeze and one last thought flashed through his terrified mind: at least the cold of the water would be preferable to drowning. Will Graham’s eyes slipped closed as he began to sink beneath the waves, following their siren’s song into the crushing depths that promised oblivion. Salvation, as always, was just out of his reach.

He was not conscious when Hannibal woke, nor when he was finally dragged from the water to safety. He does not feel the tears on his face, nor Hannibal's lips upon his own, cold and weak, pushing breath into his lungs. Begging him to live. Within his mind, he traversed.

**Before the Fall**

Will's back and side were beginning to ache, but he liked feeling anything that wasn’t the numb wall that kept him from everything around him. Working on the engine to his boat was supposed to help as well, but it did not bring Will the peace he had hoped for when he came out that morning. Breath warm in the biting air, he willed it to make him feel alive as it once did. Ever since returning from the hospital, he felt as if he was in stasis, a cocoon of deliberate non-feeling kept any outside influence from reaching him. Needing ( _Hannibal_ ) the right catalyst to once again awaken him. For now, Will went through the motions. It was easier, safer than turning inward and examining the events that transpired over the last few months. Those were best left alone for the time being.

Now that he could once again move with little discomfort, he longed to work with his hands. His lures did not have quite the appeal they used to, not with the memories of flesh and bone weaved into them by hands not belonging to him, a trap laid to all but nail him to the cross at the bureau by a man he trusted to be his salvation. It didn’t matter that he never touched the creations that held pieces of the copycat’s victims. The knowledge would be there like stepping in gum; some residual darkness would always cling to him. For now, engines were the safest choice to assist him in stilling the spinning of his mind. Even though the work was far from cerebral, the focus and concentration he put into each component allowed him space, even from himself. Idle hands were, after all, the devil’s playthings and he had had enough of the devil for as many lifetimes as he was allowed.

As he worked, Will dimly heard an approaching car making its way up his drive but did not turn towards the sound. He didn’t need to; he already knew who was behind the wheel. He had hoped Jack would leave him alone after he visited him in the hospital but knowing the man like Will did, he knew Jack would have to have some kind of closure. Even now that the elusive Doctor Lecter had escaped, leaving them both scarred in ways that could never truly show, Jack would not let him be alone with his thoughts. Or his regrets. That didn’t mean Will had to make it easy for him. Unwilling to give up the pretense of work, he sighed and did not turn to face his guest. He waited for Jack to speak.

“I had hoped you would come look for me. But I understand why you didn’t.” Will tensed at his words, but willed his body to relax once more. Here in his workshop, in his home, Jack Crawford was no more powerful than a fly. Will reminded himself of this and drew in a breath before he spoke.

“What can I do for you, Jack?” He sounded much steadier than he felt, and was glad for it.

They discussed briefly and without detail the incidents that transpired and Jack’s want to ensure that Will was not going to contradict the official statement, one carefully woven to paint them both as heroes; modern day gladiators that managed to escape the horns of the beast waiting to impale them. Will waited patiently for Jack to get to the question he really wanted to ask. He knew it would not take him long.

“Do you remember when you decided to call Hannibal?” Even the doctor’s name caused a deep ache within him, a string pulled taut in the empath’s psyche. A name to forever haunt him in his waking hours, let alone what crept upon him as he slumbered. _The animal inside him will always devour, and will never be satisfied, for it is forever hungry._ He hesitated for just a moment before responding.

“I wasn’t decided when I called him… I just called him.” He shrugged. “I deliberated while the phone rang.” Another pause as his hands worked over the bolt he was tightening. “I decided when I heard his voice.” Will felt the air thicken with unspoken emotional turmoil but didn’t turn to face him. He braced for the anger he felt must be surely coming, and was surprised when Jack’s voice came out as quiet and controlled as before.

“ You told him we knew.” Will let the accusation wash over him, breathing deeply enough to feel the sting of the stitches that held him together after Hannibal’s pound of flesh was taken. The pain was grounding, reminding him of what was real. _My name is Will Graham. I am in Wolf Trap, Virginia._ The exercise felt silly and a little rusty, but it helped him focus. The smell of salt and snow, Jack’s aftershave and sweat mingled in the air around him. The painful sting of his stitches assisted in pulling him back from that awful night. _Abigail. I failed you_.

“I told him to leave. I wanted him to run.”

Quietly, as if resigned to knowing the answer before it was given, a single word fell from Jack’s lips. “Why?”

There it was. The question, the nagging, burning question that Will only perused with caution in the darkest hours of the night, when the ghosts of his mistakes and missteps were there to bear witness. After all of the pain, anguish, elation and enlightenment, all of the lessons he learned, the carefully constructed lies pulled apart to show the ugly truths behind them, this was the question that burned him the most. He couldn’t face it in those nights by himself, even with his dogs surrounding him in an effort to bring him back to himself.

_Why._

“Because…” he took a breath, stuttered the words that threatened to choke him as he spoke them aloud for the first time. “Because… he was my friend.” This was the easy part of the realization, the knowing that, even with all of the horrors that trailed behind them like a bloody carpet, Will always considered Hannibal to be a true friend. The words were deafening, stretched between him and Jack, the quiet that followed his statement filled with all the unspoken things. The hurt, the betrayal, the irrevocable damage to their lives lay bare, the silence thick as cream and cooling blood. He felt Jack turn to leave, and could not let him go without allowing the rest of the words spill from his lips, the whole truth given to the man who deserved it the least.

“And because I wanted to run away with him.” The weight of his words shed from his soul, and Will suddenly felt lighter and cleaner, more himself than he had in months. He finally turned to face Jack, reading his face like a well worn book as he did so. The sorrow etched into Jack’s features was exquisite in its harshness, a tapestry of inner conflict such as Will had never seen. Finally, the man who had chosen duty above all else, including those in his care and under his command, the man who had driven him straight into the clutches of Hannibal Lecter, could see the fruit his inattention had wrought. Jack looked into Will’s eyes and caught a glimpse of the darkness that lived in the recesses of his mind, a thing with teeth and claws that wanted to rend flesh and break bone. Jack stood before the man he once thought of as a friend and looked instead into the face of the monster lurking beneath the surface. Without another word, he turned to leave. He realized as he made the trek that he no longer trusted Will Graham to have the advantage of being unguarded at his back.

Will watched him walk away until the car wound its way down his drive. He had felt the shift in Jack's assessment of him, and was glad for it. He set the wrench down, collapsing to the ground with the terrible knowledge that there would always be a part of him that wished he had simply slipped away with Hannibal, left the FBI to recover from the carnage wrought upon by the Chesapeake Ripper. Had he known the teacup he thought to be shattered in Abigail would come together so magnificently, he would have taken her and Hannibal in his arms and run off into their next adventure. Time and hindsight are cruel mistresses, and as Will sat on the floor of the workshop, leaning into the solid structure of his work bench for much needed support, he examined for the first time those consequences at length. He allowed himself a brief moment of crushing and terrible grief, and wept for the daughter that was never his to have. From the corner of his eye, within the part of his memory palace, he could just see Abigail approaching, could feel her delicate hand as it rested upon his shoulder. He breathed in her honeysuckle and blood soaked scent and lost himself in the sound of a voice that was not really there, wanting the words she spoke to be true. _If only they were true._

“Don’t weep for me, Will. You were the father I wish I had. You and Hannibal helped make me whole again in the time I had with you. No act of violence or feeling of regret can take that away.” Her phantom arms wove their way around his neck, touch as cold and delicate as the snow that had begun to fall. “Come in out of the cold, rest your tired eyes. Don’t worry about me, Will. Don’t worry about me.” Standing and following the sound of her voice, Will made his way back to the house, ignoring his pack as he climbed the steps and fell into bed. As darkness took him, one last thought crept through his scarred psyche, an undeniable truth he still refused to gift to Jack Crawford, a truth he had yet to admit, even to himself. Here in the brief moments before he slept, the truth wove its way into his heart, healing and hurting as it moved.

_Why, Jack? You ask why? Because I loved him. I loved them both. I will always come for Hannibal, will always protect him. I love him. Love him. Love. Him. Love…_


	2. Rescue and Realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the characters. I just like to take them out and play with them.

“…I’d love to let you lay in peace, but I cannot. Chiyoh will be here soon to collect us and I haven’t the strength to carry you. Not with my wound still bleeding as it is.” Will was aware of deep, calm voice filtering through the the sounds of water lapping stone. _The water._ How had they made it out? Were they rescued? Did Hannibal already have to kill again to protect them? As his mind whirled, Will tried to sit up but found he could only shift onto his side. The movement produced a cough and his mouth filled with seawater. He opened his mouth to let it drain so he didn’t swallow it and in doing so, managed to inhale his first real breath since passing out. Sweet, fresh air filled his lungs. He held it for a moment, then slowly let it out, working to control his breathing. Another small breath. Hold. Then out. With each breath, he repeated his mantra. _My name is Will Graham. I am currently sitting on a piece of godforsaken land, a place that I brought us both to by leaping from the cliffs. My name is Will Graham and I want to be right where I am, with the man next to me. My name is Will Graham, and I am through making mistakes based on what everyone else thinks is best. My name is Will Graham and I want to live._ His heart rate was beginning to slow. He became aware of other elements adding to his current predicament. He was still cold, colder than he had ever been in his life, but he could feel all of his limbs. He concentrated on his body and worked to move first his toes, mentally moving up to his legs, torso and arms. As he moved his fingers, he realized that his grip on the doctor’s hand not loosened and Hannibal was making no attempts to free himself. As his fingers flexed, the rough, slightly larger ones entwined with his twitched in response, reassuring even with their chill. Hannibal ceased talking and leaned into the younger man, wrapping an arm around him to help him sit up. Will struggled into the position, tired to the bone but understanding the importance of movement. His hand crept up his face, searching for the cut left by the knife, but Hannibal pulled his fingers gently away. 

“I know you want to assess the damage but it would be unwise to touch your open wound. I can tell you that while you may not feel it, the cut is there and has stopped bleeding, likely due to your core temperature plummeting so dangerously low. It will be seen to once we are safe.” _Safety._ The idea of being away from this place, somewhere quiet they could heal, caused Will’s insides to ache with an unfamiliar want. It had been a long time since he truly wanted anything and the very notion was as close to heaven as he felt he had ever been. Will allowed his mind to drift in thoughts of shelter, rousing only at the reassuring squeeze against his fingers. At once, the hands encasing his own became his main point of focus as where the two men touched, warmth began to radiate, passing between them like a current of electricity. Every inch of him gravitated towards that one source of heat, and Will leaned into Hannibal’s side, desperate to feel him, solid, alive, real. As he stared up into his face, Will was taken aback by what he saw in the maroon stained eyes looking back at him. Gone was the careful calculation, the gentle amusement, the empty contempt, each an indication that Dr. Lecter saw the empath as nothing more than a plaything, something to twist and bend and make dance to the careful choreography laid before him. In it’s place was heat, concern, and something deeper that Will did not yet wish to name. To name it would give it power, something they would have to face, but there would be time for that. Soon, they would have all the time in the world. He didn’t expect Hannibal to speak, but as he did, he realized how much he ached to hear his voice, even as it spoke to him dry, clinical statements to ensure he understood what had transpired.

“I thought I lost you out in the water, Will. When I awoke, you were not breathing. Your chest will be sore in the days to come, and I beg your forgiveness. I had to pump the water from your lungs with some force to ensure you didn’t drown within your own body. Once we arrive at the house to which we will be taken, you will have the time you need to rest and let your body heal.” Hannibal’s hands tightened momentarily around Will’s before letting them go. He winced as he drew in a breath, attempting to pull the shirt away from his gunshot wound. Will’s heart tightened, and with the greatest care, he moved the shirt away from the damaged flesh. Hannibal sighed with relief and allowed his eyes to fall closed for just a moment. _He looks as tired as I feel._ Drawing what courage remained, Will reached out to gently touch the doctor’s cold cheek, trailing fingertips against stubbled flesh. Hannibal’s eyes opened and held his gaze as he slowly explored the curve of his cheekbone, the angle of his jaw, the taut flesh of his neck.

“There is nothing to forgive and if there is, it's already forgiven. I thought I lost you in the water as well. When we fell…” Will swallowed the lump that formed like a hard block of ice in his throat. “When we fell, you didn’t move. I tried to pull us to safety, but you weren’t responding and I was so afraid…” his throat hitched at the memory of the unresponsive man in his arms. Hannibal’s fingers reached up to touch the hand still mapping his skin. The calloused fingers covered his own, pressing his hand into skin, grounding them back in reality.

“You will not lose me, Will. This unpleasant part of our journey is almost at an end. We have much to discuss once we have recuperated. But know this for now. You did not lose me then. You will not lose me now. As you once said to me, I do not believe either of us would survive the separation.” Will smiled and even with the pain that seared up his cheek as his nerve endings finally sang to life, it was sweeter than any other victory he had yet experienced. Even the pain was part of the pleasure, as had always been between them. Perhaps soon, there could be time for gentler things. 

A car suddenly appeared from around a bend in the road and came to a stop before them, the driver’s side door tossed open as their rescuer leaped out and ran to their side. “Doctor Lecter! How bad are your injuries? Can you walk?” _Chiyoh._ The young woman grasped the older man’s hands and helped him to his feet. “The heat is on in the car, please settle yourself in the back seat. Do not worry about your Will. I will bring him along.” She watched carefully as Hannibal made his way slowly to the car and maneuvered his way into the back. Once she was sure he wasn’t going to fall, she rounded on Will, gripping his arm as hard as she dared. Will gasped at the ferocity in the hold she had on him.

“Chiyoh- Chiyoh stop, you’re hurting-”

“Don’t! Don’t you _dare_ tell me I am hurting you! You hurt him! I saw the gunshot, Will. Do you think I am unarmed? I will shoot you again, a wound to match the wound you inflicted. I can knock you unconscious and take you home to Lithuania with me. You can be my new charge.”

“No, its not like-”

“-Just don’t. I will help you to the car, and I will speak with Hannibal on these matters. If I come to find that any of this is your doing, it will be the end of you, Will Graham. Do we understand one another?” The nails dug into his skin. Will nodded and breathed down his anxiety, meeting her eyes as he spoke.

“Yes. If he tells you that this was unnecessary, or that I caused the injuries you saw on him, you can shoot me and take me to your dungeon. The moth man I left could probably use the company.” Chiyoh’s grip didn’t loosen, but she nodded. Helping him stand, she guided him into the back of the car, next to Doctor Lecter. Closing the door behind him, she climbed into the driver’s side and carried the men away from the shoreline, into the dark horizon. Leaning back into the seat, Will closed his eyes and drank in the engulfing heat. He was asleep within minutes.

***

The next time Will opened his eyes, it took him a moment to gain his bearings. Car. They were still in the car. While the heat had been turned down, there was still a warmth surrounding him that left him feeling sleepy and comfortable despite the aches in his body. All around them were trees, thick pines lining a dirt roadway leading into the mountains spread out before them. Craning his neck to get a better look, he came to realize why he was still so warm. Hannibal was stretched across his side, head resting comfortably on the swell of Will’s upper chest, arm woven around his stomach as if even in sleep, he couldn’t help but be drawn to him. Not wishing to disturb the doctor’s rest, Will settled back down, stretching his legs as much as he could to ease some of the tension in them from being locked in their position for so long. Beside him, Hannibal slept on. A quiet voice drifted back from the darkness of the front seat.

“I’ve never seen him like that with anybody. He is not usually one to be drawn into sentiment, yet as soon as he fell to sleep, he moved unconsciously to pull you in. What changed in you when you met him again?” Chiyoh’s voice floated over the seat to him, so quiet that he almost missed the question. Glancing down to the arm encircling his waist, he sighed.

“Nothing changed. Not really. Hannibal and I…” He took a breath and tried to find the words. “We belong to each other. We may have belonged long before either of us wants to admit, and certainly longer than I care to contemplate. Since the very first attempt at friendship, through the stages of manipulation, we have found a path that only we can traverse. I can’t see where the path is taking us. Hell, once he wakes he may come to hate me. I know only that whatever we do, we have to do it together.” Chiyoh contemplated his words, and nodded meeting his eyes in the rear view.

“I’m sorry I threatened to shoot you.” Will almost laughed but doesn’t dare for fear of waking the sleeping doctor.

“You may want to check with him to make sure he doesn’t want you to. But either way, I forgive you.”

“We spoke before he slept. He said much as you have, that this leap as you called it, was necessary in ensuring that you both want the same things. I still think it was reckless, dangerous and pointless, but he was beside himself with glee. I owe you the apology, Will. Please take it.” Will’s grin widened until he felt the pull of the wound in his cheek. He grimaced, and looked out the window for a distraction from the suddenly sharp pain.

“Where are we headed?”

“We are nearing our destination now, the house you see in the back of the mountains as we were driving up. The gods only know you two will need some privacy to recover from your injuries. Nobody knows of this house, and I will be able to make your supply runs, so you will be safe here. It will buy you time to plan for the future.”

“That’s all good and well, but where are we?” Chiyoh smiled from the front seat, eyes dark in the mirror.

“North and West. Far from where you were, and that is all I can tell you for now. I do want to warn you, there is a guest waiting at the house for us. He is a doctor, and he can stitch you both up.” _A doctor? How had she arranged for a doctor to meet them there?_ Will could not bring himself to care. He was worried about Hannibal’s gunshot wound as it was, and any help they could get would be for the best. The car came to a halt in front of the house, an enormous two story cabin structure with large windows facing north and west, curtains drawn. Even in the woods, Hannibal never ceased to be elegant. Opening the door, Chiyoh climbed out, moving around to the passenger side to assist in getting the doctor into the house. Will gently shook his shoulder to rouse him.

“Hannibal? We made it. We are at your cabin, if you could call it that. Chiyoh won’t tell me exactly where it is, but it is beautiful here.” The older man stirred, a sharp intake of breath worrying. “Chiyoh! I need your help getting him inside. The bullet may still be lodged in his wound and he’s lost a lot of blood.”

Chiyoh hurried to Will’s side. Together they lifted the taller man to his feet and helped him walk into the house. As they crossed the threshold, a man emerged, nondescript and professional looking, dressed comfortably in a dark blue sweater and grey dress slacks. The man was taller than Will, but not by much. Fit but not muscular, he showcased forearms of tanned skin, as if he spent a great deal of time outdoors. His dark hair was short cropped and threatened curls if left a little longer. Chocolate eyes and overly bleached teeth, grinning so widely it could almost be called a growl. He moved with the grace of an athlete, coming to a halt in front of them as his eyes skimmed over Hannibal's injuries. 

“Hello Will, my name is Doctor Raymond Sanderson. I am a former patient of your fine Doctor Lecter here, and have been summoned to assist in removing the bullet from his wound. Once I get him set up, I’ll get your cheek stitched up as well.” The quiet professionalism should have been reassuring... but it didn’t fool Will for a minute. Hannibal moaned quietly and slumped further into the shoulders holding him upright. Chiyoh spoke to him quietly, reassuring.

“It’s okay, Will. Sanderson is a friend of Hannibal’s. He will tend to your wounds and get you some medication to promote healing. Once he does, he will be on his way. Is all prepared below, Doctor?” Impressed with her cool and calm demeanor, Will followed her lead and helped carry Hannibal down a set of carefully obscured steps to a fully stocked and sterile looking room below. _This is a killing room._ The darkness inside Will coiled around the thought. _All the better to be prepared_. Doctor Sanderson must have been there for some time, as there were implements laid out precisely to assist with the injuries both Hannibal and Will had sustained. Once he helped Chiyoh get Hannibal laid out onto the operating table, Will stepped aside and found a seat to collapse into. He desperately wanted to shed the clothing that clung to his skin and wash the grime of the ocean off of him, but he didn’t want to leave Hannibal to the tender mercies of this… friend. _Friend indeed. Just another psychopath in doctor’s clothing. What’s your specialty, Raymond?_ Will ran his hands through his curls and kept watch as what remained of the shirt was removed, the wound cleaned and probed, and the bullet extracted. He continued to watch as the wound was stitched closed and an IV transfusion started to bring up the blood content in Hannibal’s body. Another shot administered for pain, a series of antibiotics. The man before him was clinical and precise, professional to a fault yet as in himself, Will could feel the beast lurking beneath his skin.

“Ready for me to take a look at that cheek, Mr. Graham?” Will started at the sound of Doctor Sanderson’s voice. Looking up into the smiling face, Will knew that this man was capable of hurting him most severely, but under the observation of Chiyoh and the guaranteed life of Hannibal, he wouldn’t dare. Cool gloved fingers probed gently at the wound, assessing the damage. A quiet clattering as the doctor gathered his tools, the deep burn of the fluid cleaning and sterilizing his wound. He felt the needle pinch into his skin as he was sewed up, but none of it registered except on the very surface of his psyche. All of his attention was focused on the man laying still on the table, the rise and fall of his chest as he slept.

“Almost done. Once the stitches are in, please refrain from talking as much as possible for the next week or so. You can eat, but clean your mouth when you are finished and try to stick to soft foods and liquids if at all possible. I have brought additional medication for you, both an antibiotic and pain management. Please finish the entire bottle of antibiotics. Nobody would want you to get sick. Not with what you have already been through.” A hand reached out to touch Will’s cheek, the act too familiar for the situation at hand. _Got you. Men, is it? What have you done to your anesthetized patients, doctor?_ Will moved out of reach easily, leaving Sanderson’s hand suspended in mid motion. The doctor smirked. The professional shell cracked at last, the monster on full display in all its predatory glory. “Are you afraid of me, Will?" Will snorted, letting his eyes wander back to Hannibal.

“No, and you know that already. You have a beast within you, and I’m guessing it was trouble that arose from your appetites that brought you into Doctor Lecter’s care. I’m sure that is the favor or debt or whatever you’d like to call it that you owe. I’m glad you were here to treat him, and me for that matter.” Will felt a smile stretch across his mouth, bared teeth pulling at the fresh stitches. The burn helped ground him, fed his own ferocity. He let his gaze reach Sanderson’s eyes and watched as they faltered, suddenly touched with fear. Will found he liked the fear on his face. A real reaction at last. “If you think, even for a moment that you have any kind of hold on either of us, you are wrong. You are a monster, that much is certain. But there are always bigger and badder things out there than what you see yourself as. If anything were to happen to Hannibal under your care, or if you mention to anyone where you have been and who you've been treating..." Will caressed the man's cheek, just as the doctor had meant to do to him only moments before. "I will skin you alive and eat you while you watch. I may not have Hannibal's flair for extravagant meals, but I will make do. Do we understand one another?”

Sanderson stepped back, paling. “I-”

“You’re here to stitch us up as part of a debt owed. I got that. But I saw the beast beneath your skin as you worked. While the thought may have never crossed your mind to harm us, please understand that I know what you are. He is mine. If you hurt what is mine, I will hurt you. Is that understood?” Sweat broke out across the doctor’s forehead as he watched Will’s face, not daring to look away but not wanting him any closer. Will grinned, letting the stitches pull. “I said is that understood, Raymond?”

“Y-yes. It’s understood.” 

“Good. Am I free to take a shower? I’d like to be clean when Hannibal wakes.”

“Yes. Your wound needs to be kept dry, but you’re free to clean your skin and dry it when you get out.” Will smiled, gentler this time, and put a hand on Sanderson’s shoulder, enjoying the way the man flinched under his touch. _I see you, and now you know. Monsters beware. Here be dragons_.

“I’ve got it from here for the time being then. I’ll have Chiyoh show you out. She can come down and watch him while I shower.” Keeping his hand on the trembling man’s shoulder, Will guided him from the room.

Neither man noticed the small smile gracing Hannibal Lecter's mouth, nor the flush that rose in his cheeks. Although tired from the drugs, his tolerance for narcotics had always been especially high, a gift for which he was suddenly eternally grateful. He had heard everything. 


	3. Creature Comforts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your beautiful comments and reviews. They mean the world to me.

There is no cure for exhaustion quite like a shower, at least in Will’s opinion. He escorted Doctor Sanderson to his car, the man still visibly shaken. Will walked back to the house and closed the door behind him. He watched from one of the big windows as Sanderson drove away, playing the conversation they shared back over in his mind. _Did I really threaten to eat a man just because I knew he had a darkness that echoes (my own) Hannibal’s?_ Yes, yes he had. _Did I mean it though?_ Will turned the question over in his mind, trying and failing to attach anything but indignant rage at the man who had reached for him unnecessarily and with the familiarity of a predator. The self loathing and contempt for his actions that he expected to fill him didn’t come. He waited, watching the car disappear through the tree line and off to the main road. Still nothing, except finely tuned anger and relief that Sanderson had been unable to control him. Examining his emotions was proving to be a waste of time. Will shook his head and turned away from the window. The adrenaline that had fueled him through the last few hours was finally leaving his system and Will was beginning to realize just how tired he was. His face ached, skin tight with the remaining salt of their swim in the ocean. He couldn’t wait to get out of his clothes and clean. 

Ignoring the interior of the house for now, he began to look for a bathroom, testing doors until he found what appeared to be the master suite. Stepping into the hushed quiet of the room, the empath closed the door behind him and turned to examine his surroundings. It was difficult to not let out a whistle of appreciation. The room was large, larger than most homes in the area. Though cavernous, it still managed an air of cozy comfort. The room was built rustic with touches of sophistication juxtaposed throughout. Crisp cream walls gave way to high, exposed beam ceilings. Massive windows facing the western tree line were covered with well sewn but coarse burlap curtains and tied back with beautifully tanned leather straps. The floors were polished oak, partially obscured by two thick grey rugs. A huge metal framed four poster bed stood against the center of the wall to Will’s left, piled high with the softest looking midnight blue comforter he had ever seen. Part of him didn’t want to bother to shower, but instead to burrow into the heavenly pile and discover just how deep it went. Opposite the foot of the bed stood a bare stone fireplace which already blazed with dancing flames. _Chiyoh must be anticipating the need for warmth. I’ll have to thank her again._ Two dark blue wing back chairs sat to one side of the fire, a small glass topped table between them. A door stood partially open to the right of the fireplace, and Will decided to try this one first, guessing what it must be. Just as he thought, it lead to another massive room; a closet that would rival the richest and most opulent in the world. Compared with the attached bedroom, this space with its thick white carpet, bright chandelier and three sided mirror spoke more of the man who owned the house. Will stood in the doorway of the room and breathed deeply, feeling the pull in his chest as the older man had warned he might, but not for the obvious injury. The entire room was filled with the scent of the doctor, delicate autumnal spice and the smell of salt and skin that was uniquely Hannibal. Closing his eyes, he let his mind drift to the embrace, right before he flung them from the cliff side. _This is all I wanted for you, Will. For both of us._ That scent clung to his senses, heady and intoxicating, had filled him with joy in that moment. Now, that feeling expanded into something deeper, animal and primal. He wanted to wrap himself in it, draw it in the way a plant draws in sunlight. It nourished him in much of the same way.

_It was always you, Hannibal._

Will let his hands wander along the clothing and cabinets as his thoughts shifted from one scene to the next; the breakfast scramble ( _the meat was surprisingly tasty_ ), the doctor’s hands on his shoulder, his forehead, carefully removing the gun from his hands before he ended Clark Ingram’s indecencies, the deep stab wound to his stomach that revealed Hannibal’s sense of betrayal, even if he’d never speak of it in such terms. Unbeknownst to any other, Will often looked at the scar, tracing its curve with his fingers, remembering the pain that had radiated from it, understanding its necessity. He remembered the way Hannibal held him gently, even has he bled out onto the floor. Cradled him as he fell. Even in his greatest pain, he could feel the regret, disappointment, a culmination of emotions forged together as their lives entwined. These were things Will could not explain, would not bother to try. He knew without a doubt that the scar he carried was proof that Hannibal felt something beyond the need to eat. 

_He’s asleep downstairs. Maybe when we are better, he can explain my emotions to me. Even now, I don’t think he will ever stop being my psychiatrist._ Will let the memories go for now, and instead focused on Hannibal’s obvious discomfort down in the sterile room, clothed in what little survived the ocean and the bullet removal. He never took to the cold and would be waking from his medically induced sleep soon. This thought spurred Will to action. Even if he was asleep, Will was sure that the older man would unconsciously feel the debris he was still covered in. The thought made him uncomfortable. Looking around the closet, he took only a moment to stare at the contents of the room before sifting through a chest of drawers for anything that would pass as lounging clothes. While his tastes may have been extravagant, the doctor seemed to prepare for every eventuality. Pleasantly surprised with the fruits of his search, Will managed to find two sets of high quality flannel bottoms and two white t shirts. Although the material was finer than he himself would have chosen, at least they weren’t made of silk and they would both be comfortable. Adding two pairs of boxer briefs to the pile, he exited the closet, closing the door behind him and made his way to the last door in the room which lead to the adjoining bathroom. 

Will felt for an pressed a switch for the lights and had to stop for a moment just to take it in. Set in one wall was a massive counter made of honey colored stone. The mirror set above reflected a large tub which appeared to be made of the same material. Three steps lead into its depths, making it more a Jacuzzi rather than a traditional bathtub. Large white pillar candles sat unlit in the far reaches, enough room to rest without being in danger of knocking them over. He would definitely have to take some time to enjoy himself in that tub while they remained. 

He set the choice of clothes he found for himself on the counter and approached the far end of the room. The shower took up the entire length of the wall, looking wonderfully inviting with its heated floor and rainwater tap. Will turned the water on and adjusted it until it was just shy of blistering. He shed his clothes and kicked them into a pile so he could dispose of them later. Stepping into the stream of water he groaned, the hot torrent sluicing across his skin in a scouring path. It cut through the rest of the dirt and grime that clung to him, washing away the remnants of their time in the ocean. Bringing his hands to his face, he scrubbed along his uninjured cheek and carefully rinsed around the stitches on the other side. Will let his head fall back and wet his curls, moaning as the pressure of the torrent caressed his scalp. Exhausted but comfortable, he lost track of time as he let the waters rinse his old life away. Thoughts unbidden sprang forth, a fantasy of calloused hands at his shoulders, pulled back into a broad chest as a pair of decidedly masculine lips found the pulse point on his throat. He moaned, fingertips unconsciously tracing the same point, heart racing. The phantom fingers continued their perusal, gliding down to the small of his back, gripped his hips to pull him closer. Hot breath in his ear, a deep, melodious voice caressing his senses, telling him to relax and enjoy. _Yes. I want more. I want it all._

When he came to himself, he was already feeling much better than he deserved. The thoughts that had pulled at his mind clung to him, a realization that, although he hated her, Bedelia may have been right about the nature of their relationship, even if the men themselves were obstinately in denial. _Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you, and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you ache for him?_ Will shook his head. Another conversation he would need to unpack, but there would be time. When they were both inclined, Will had the feeling that they could discuss anything and come to the same conclusions. 

Glancing around, he found a bottle of expensive shampoo. He smirked and opened the container, inhaling the familiar masculine scent. He squeezed out too much on purpose and lathered his hair, feeling the horrors of the past 48 hours slipping down the drain with the suds. He found equally ostentatious body wash on the shelf as well and quickly cleaned his body, examining himself for cuts and bruises,. The knife wound in his shoulder ached, but was almost superficial. No torn muscle, no need for stitches. The rest of his injuries, save his face were minor compared to the injuries Hannibal had sustained. Wincing, he discovered the brilliant bruise blooming on his chest where the doctor had pressed to start his heart. The bruise ached, but he had fared much better than he deserved. Reluctantly, he shut the water off, reaching for one of the towels hanging on the rack beside the shower. He scrubbed himself dry, taking extra care to make sure his stitches stayed intact. Once satisfied that he was as dry as he could get, he reached for the clothes he brought into the bathroom. The white t shirt was big on him, but not by much. He knew it would comfortably contour to Hannibal’s musculature, and felt a flash of heat at the thought. He shook his head and pulled on the boxer briefs, then the flannel pants. Once fully dressed, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was startled to see that the man in front of him appeared calm, more together than he had ever been in his skin. There was no signs of trauma or discomfort in his eyes, only a soft anticipation layered with exhaustion. _Apparently, attempting to leap to one’s death with a serial killer in tow does wonders for the nerves._ Will laughed aloud, startling himself with the sound in the quiet hush of the room. He left his old clothes where they lay and went in search of Chiyoh and Hannibal to see how they were faring.

***

Will heard the pair before he saw them.

“Doctor Lecter, you have to let me help you. You’re filthy, you’ve just been stitched closed in not one, but two places. You’ve been given enough tranquilizers to stop a horse. You can barely stand and I don’t know where Will is. Now let me help!”

Will could hear the impatience in Chiyoh’s voice. Walking down the stairs to the operating room ( _kill room_ ), he came to a dead stop as the scene in front of him registered. Hannibal, shirtless, was sitting up on the table staving off Chiyoh’s approach with an arm stretched in front of him as if to ward off a blow. Chiyoh, washcloth in hand, was attempting to help him clean up, but the doctor seemed to be steadfastly and emphatically avoiding her touch. A small basin of water had overturned, spilling liquid along the otherwise clean floor. Will could smell the mixture from where he stood, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Apparently she thought that vinegar water would help clean the salt off Hannibal’s skin. He now understood why he was fighting so hard to avoid the cloth. Both were breathing heavily as Will made his way down the steps, grinning.

“Hello Doctor Lecter. Chiyoh. What’s going on here?” Chiyoh rounded on him, brandishing the washcloth. Will quickly stepped back, narrowly avoiding her swipe.

“He won’t let me help him! He’s still covered in sea water and he’s cold to the touch. He almost fell when he tried to stand, and I couldn’t get him upstairs like this. Where have you been?” The woman glared at him, dark eyes taking in his much cleaner appearance. The disapproval was plain on her face. “You bathed and left me here with him?” Will couldn’t help it. He laughed, feeling the sting in his stitches.

“I didn’t expect him to wake so soon. After escorting the ( _repugnant man_ ) kind Doctor Sanderson to his car, I thought I’d do exactly what you’re trying to help Hannibal do. I will need to sleep eventually, and I felt it wouldn’t be wise to keep my old clothes on when I fell into bed.” His grin didn’t leave his face as she rolled her eyes. Doctor Lecter, on the other hand, looked pleased. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of helping him upstairs to bathe. I left my clothes on the floor in the bathroom. I figured I’d collect both sets and burn them once I see that Hannibal is comfortable.” Chiyoh’s shoulders slumped in relief. She bent and retrieved the bowl from the floor. As she straightened, she fixed Will with a penetrating stare.

“Thank you, Will. Hopefully he will listen to you more than he did me. I have errands to run for Dr. Lecter. I will be gone for two days at the most. The house has been stocked with what you will need to fend for yourself for that time.” _What could she be taking care of now?_ “Are you going to be okay with the two of you here?” 

Will smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We will be fine. Thank you for all of your help, Chiyoh. We couldn’t have done any of this without you.” She snorted as she walked up the stairs towards the door.

“See if you’re still thanking me when I return.” Her footsteps moved through the kitchen, the sound of keys tinkling as she made her way out the door. Will heard the engine of her car start, and the distant sound as she drove away. Silence filled the space around them, punctuated only with their breathing. Will turned to face the doctor, smiling gently. _Alone. Together. At last._

Hannibal broke the silence first.

“I seem to have upset her. However, I do not know what she was thinking, and under no circumstance would I have allowed her to touch me with her dish rag. Vinegar? Highly ineffective for cleaning skin.” Grimacing, the doctor braced himself on the table, his arms shaking as he tried to stand. 

“Hannibal, just wait a damn minute. I’ll help you.” The older man stopped his movements at once, panting hard. The lines around his eyes and mouth stood out in harsh relief, a vivid display of the pain he was experiencing. Will made his way to the doctor’s side, slipping an arm around his waist and urging an arm around his shoulders. 

“Here, lean into me. I’m not sure you’re well enough to stand for a shower, but do you think you could sit in the bath?” Hannibal’s blood hued eyes darkened, a small sound escaping his throat as he leaned into Will’s careful grip. Will’s heart leapt to his throat. _That sound. Oh god._

“A bath sounds divine. I daresay you may need to change once again by the time I make it up the stairs. I’m still fairly brined and you seem to have taken advantage of my toiletries.” Hannibal’s eyes darkened as he gazed at the man at his side. “Not to mention my wardrobe.” 

Will laughed, tightening his grip. “I hate to tell you Doctor, but my clothes can’t really be worn again. And here you had this vast closet filled with things for me to borrow. Don’t worry, I found you a matching set.” 

Hannibal sighed. 

“Of all of the exquisite things in that room, you find the only thing remotely pedestrian and cling to it. Although…” His eyes continued to travel appreciatively down what he could see of Will’s frame. “I don’t think I can find the strength in me to complain. Are you comfortable at least?” 

Will held in a smile. _Easy. Don’t get too comfortable too quickly._ _There is still much to discuss._ “Not as comfortable as you’re going to be once we get you cleaned up. Come on, I want to see this tub of yours in action. I almost regretted not using it earlier, but you also own a rain shower.” The two men made their way slowly through the house to the bedroom Will had discovered earlier. The empath matched the taller man’s steps exactly, making sure to keep Hannibal’s wounds in mind as they finally made it to the bathroom. Leaning the doctor against the counter, Will turned to work the taps, starting a flow of water. He checked the temperature, making sure it was warm enough without being too hot. Hannibal’s skin was too cold for his liking.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for the water to be very deep, but if you sit close to the edge, I can help you wash your back and the grime out of your hair. You’ll only need to lean a little.” He walked back to where he had left the doctor, noting the hollow look in his eyes. “Hannibal, are you feeling well enough for this? I can help you lie down if that would be better. We can always replace the sheets.” The doctor shook his head.

“No… no. I don’t want to be covered in salt as I sleep. I won’t be able to rest.” His hands moved to the belt of his slacks, fingers clumsy as he worked to pull it from its loops. Will’s heart clenched at the sight of the elegant fingers reduced to fumbling. Stepping forward, he cupped the taller man’s hands, stilled his actions. He felt the fine trembling in the doctor’s limbs and the clenching turned to an ache.

“Hannibal… please. Let me help.” Maroon eyes met cerulean, emotional and physical exhaustion clear. A small nod, and Hannibal released his tenuous grip, leaving himself in Will’s hands. Touched with how much trust was given to him, Will made quick work of the belt, unbuttoning and unzipping the pants. Grateful, the doctor pushed the fabric down to pool at his feet. Taking his elbow so he wouldn’t fall, Will helped him clear the remnants of his clothing, kicking them in the general direction of his own pile. Carefully, the pair walked towards the bath.

“I believe it will be easier if I first sit on the edge. I can balance to get into the water from there.” 

“Okay.” 

They maneuvered carefully until the doctor was sitting on the warm stone. Will braced his back as he slid the rest of the way into the tub. The sigh of relief issued forth came from both men simultaneously. Hannibal closed his eyes, stretching his legs out before him. As the water reached his hips, Will turned off the taps. 

“I know you’d much prefer to soak, but I don’t want to risk your bandages just yet. In a couple of days we can try a shower but for now, I think it’s best if you just soak up the warmth and let me help. Stay here. I’m going to get something to help me wash your hair.” The doctor nodded, closing his eyes as he sat in the hot water, relaxing into its depths. Will stepped from the room and made his way to the kitchen. Clean, sterile and intimidating, he tried not to think about what would be prepared here as he looked around. After a few cabinets, he found a large stainless steel bowl and a small glass pitcher. Taking them with him, he made his way back to Hannibal’s side.

As he approached, the scene before him made him slow, eyes drinking in the view. Hannibal had sprawled out in the bath, legs slightly apart for balance. His head tilted against the stone edge, chest rising and falling as he relaxed. The position made him look debauched, the sounds of his breathing bringing to mind sated breaths in his ear, whispering to him as they… _where is my brain going? I can’t do this. Not now. Not… not yet._ Will shook his head and made his way into the room, walking past the bath to the shower to grab the shampoo and body wash he used earlier.

“Hannibal? You awake?” The man in the water stirred, wincing as he moved.

“Yes, Will. I am here.” _God, that voice._

“I’m going to help you wash your back and hair. Are you comfortable as you are? I found a bowl and pitcher that will help me so I don’t soak your bandages.” Hannibal snorted, glancing surreptitiously in the direction of Will’s voice.

“Let me see which of my kitchen implements you are planning to bring to ruin.” Will rolled his eyes, but brought the pitcher and bowl within Hannibal’s range of view.

“Do these meet with your approval, your highness?” A burst of real, genuine laughter escaped the doctor’s lips. The decadent, velvet sound washed over Will like a balm to his ragged soul. In that moment, with Hannibal’s face shining with the edges of his laugh, he knew that they had really, truly survived the fall. They were here. In this place. Together. It was really happening. The reality of it struck his heart and he forgot how to breathe. Hannibal’s voice brought him back to himself.

“Will? Are you well? Please answer me. William?” Will’s breath hitched in his throat as he struggled for composure.

“William? Nobody calls me William, not even my family. I’m fine, Doctor Lecter. I promise.” Hannibal’s eyes searched his face, looking for signs that his words rang true.

“Are you sure? Will, the look on your face…” Will’s heart contracted over his panic, staving it off. The worry in Dr. Lecter seemed to feel was there and it didn’t need to be. He cleared his throat.

“It’s just… the reality of this. You’re alive. We are here. This is real. It was… your laughter. I’ve never heard you laugh like that.” Will blushed. “You sound… oh hell, this sounds sappier than what I mean. You just sound free. You have a wonderful laugh.”

Hannibal smiled, reaching for Will’s hand. The tentative touch was almost too much, singing down Will’s skin with heat and electricity. It stole his breath, made his heart clench. _What will your touch feel like in other places?_

“Can I help you clean up?” Hannibal nodded and sat forward so Will could position the bowl to keep the water from the floor as much as possible. Once retrieving the shampoo and wash from the shower, he settled on his knees to work. He felt Hannibal’s shudder, the desperation to be clean singing along the man’s skin. Working quickly, he filled the pitcher and carefully wet the ashen locks that draped into the bowl. The sound in Hannibal’s throat was desperate, breathy, and warmed the blood in Will’s veins. He carefully uncapped the shampoo bottle and worked his damp hands into a lather. Reaching for the older man’s scalp, he began to gently work the soap into his hair. Hannibal, his eyes closed, looked as if he might pass out from the bliss of the gentle ministrations. Will worked more lather into his hair, wanting to be sure it was clean so he only had to rinse once and have less risk of damaging the bandages. His fingers circled the doctor’s skin, massaging as he worked. Hannibal’s hands clenched as Will found a sore spot near the base of his neck. Will carefully massaged out the knot of tension, then lifted the pitcher to rinse. Another filled pitcher, another rinse, turning the older man’s hair the color of dark mead. So intent on what he was doing, he started when Hannibal began to speak.

“Yes. Even with all that we have gone through, both together and apart, I am here, as are you. You chose this, understood that you couldn’t outrun your inclinations towards the dark. When the dragon came for us…” he swallowed hard and dropped his gaze. “I thought you would run from me. All that blood when we cut into him. I saw the animal in you, Will. I thought it would chase you from me.”

Will laughed, a wild, desperate sound. The darkness in him curled at Hannibal's words. He helped the doctor to sit and wet a washcloth to work along his back. “I never wanted to run. Not then. Not now. I can never explain with eloquence how much tearing into Dolarhyde excited me. I wanted to consume him, as he tried to do to you.” He looked up into Hannibal’s startled eyes. “I wanted to consume him together. But there wasn’t time. I can’t outrun this part of me, and I don’t want to try and control it anymore. I don’t know if I can embrace it… not fully. At least not yet. But…” He licked his lips and looked away, feeling Hannibal’s gaze. “I want to try.”

A sharp intake of breath brought him back to the older man’s face. Hannibal’s eyes filled with tears as Will watched, fascinated as they shone in the subdued, steamy light. He reached up to follow their trek down the older man’s cheeks. Hannibal leaned into the touch, breath hot against Will’s hand. He laid a gentle kiss to his palm. 

“ What an exquisite creature you are, Will. In all of my wildest dreams I could not have guessed that in the end, you’d choose your truest nature. Forgive me for saying so, but I am so proud of you.” Will could feel the doctor’s breath against his skin as he spoke. Jolts of delicious electricity shot up his spine at the contact. He had missed how often Hannibal touched him and the gentlest contact now brought to the surface his desperate hunger for skin. He cupped Hannibal’s cheek, thumb running through the tract of tear lines. He held the other man’s fascinated gaze as he spoke.

“I didn’t just choose the dark side of me, Hannibal. I chose you. I don’t think I can make that more clear. I choose you.” The moment between the two stretched like taffy, pulling them inevitably together. Will leaned in, tilting the face in his hands upward. A momentary pause, asking. Hannibal’s lips parted as Will’s descended, the barest brush of warm satin. The touch was incendiary, causing the hand on Hannibal’s jaw to tighten momentarily before Will could rein himself back in. Pulling back, he rested his forehead to Hannibal’s temple, breathing hard. _I just kissed him. He didn’t pull away._ Overwhelmed, gripping the washcloth, he moved back to finish his work.

“Lean up a bit for me, and I’ll wash your back. How are you feeling?”

The older man leaned as far as the bullet wound would allow and groaned as the cloth gently scrubbed away the last of the saltwater. Will trailed his hand behind the one clutching the cloth, searching for knots of tension and gently pressed into them until they loosened. The trail took him along the stretch of muscled back and shoulders and up the doctor’s neck. Satisfied that the older man was clean, he set aside the washcloth and used both hands in earnest, enjoying the feel of soft skin and thick muscle as it played beneath his touch.

“I’m fine, Will. Tired perhaps, but nothing that won’t be fixed with a good night’s sleep. Where did you learn pressure massage like that?” He leaned back into Will’s hands as they found another knot to press.

“I didn’t, but suffering from anxiety as I do, I often get the same kind of tension. I just use a tennis ball to ease it instead of trusting someone to work it out for me. Does it feel okay? I’m not hurting you, am I?” Judging from the sharp breath and groans, Will suspected he had found an especially tender spot. Pressing his thumbs into either side of the knot, he held until it eased. His thumbs caressed the skin above the top vertebrae of Hannibal’s neck, making sure the tension eased before he released him. The doctor melted back against the stone sides of the tub looking thoroughly relaxed.

“Are you ready to get dressed? I’d like to make you something to eat, but I’m bone tired and would like to catch a couple of hours of sleep before I attempt to do so. It won’t be black Silkie chicken broth, but I do know a recipe I think you’ll be able to stomach.” Will sensed the smile before he heard it in Hannibal’s voice.

“Are you proposing to make me chicken soup, Will? I didn’t know cooking was in your impressive wheelhouse.” 

Will couldn’t keep the grin off his face. _If I don’t knock it off, the stitches are going to pop. Hannibal isn’t well enough to stitch me back together._

“Just because you never let me in the kitchen doesn’t mean I don’t know how to cook. It may be a lower, coarser grade than what your refined palette is used to, but it will be better than canned.” Hannibal wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“I most heartily agree. Very well. I believe sleep is in order, then I would be happy to eat anything you want to prepare.” Will laughed and helped the doctor to his feet, ensuring he was on solid ground before stepping back.

“Do you need help getting dressed?” 

“I believe I am able to dress myself. Please do not go far, though. Just one moment.” Hannibal reached for the clothing set aside for him, letting the towel fall to the ground as he did so. Will let his eyes wander down the creamy expanse of the doctor’s back, pausing to inspect the damage inflicted. _Was that really only 48 hours ago?_ Hannibal took his time, but eventually pulled on the flannels Will had chosen, sighing with relief. He picked up the t shirt, stretching to pull it over his head and shoulders. Will couldn’t help but watch as the shirt was pulled over finely sculpted muscle, deliciously sprinkled with salt and pepper hair. His eyes followed as knuckles grazed flesh, raising his eyes only when the shirt reached his mark. Hannibal’s eyes shone in the dark.

“I’d ask you if you see something you like Will, but I do not wish to begin something I cannot yet bring to completion. The look on your face, though… you look like a predator.” Will blushed before he could stop himself and laughed, running his fingers through his unruly curls.

“You will never be prey, Doctor Lecter.” Hannibal smiled, a brief flash of teeth. Will stayed close as they made it to the bed. Helping him sit, then lay among the cool sheets, Will folded the comforter to the doctor's waist. 

“ I was admiring this cloud earlier. Is it as comfortable as it looks?” Hannibal smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling with warmth and satisfaction.

“Climb in next to me and find out for yourself. Before you argue, know that I already calculated the logistics of sleeping arrangements. Taking into account both your night terrors and the possibility of my wound pulling open and bleeding, it’s safest to sleep in the same bed.” Meeting the empath’s eyes, he smiled tiredly. “In addition, I do not want to let you out of my sight just yet. Not when we can easily and comfortably share this space.” Will’s breath caught in his throat, but he nodded, walking to the other side of the bed. Sliding between the cool press of sheets, he suddenly didn’t care if he died in this exact spot. The bed was soft and comfortable and seemed to cradle him as if it were made for him. The fireplace crackled pleasantly, lulling him into a deeper sense of comfort than he could remember feeling, ever. He turned to face the man laying next to him, unsurprised to find Hannibal watching him in the dim light cast by the fire.

“What?” Hannibal smiled gently, turning his head to the side.

“Nothing at all, dear Will. I am just enjoying the novelty of having you in my bed, at last. Though, the circumstances are far different than I imagined.” Will reached out and laid a hand on the doctor’s shoulder, wanting the creature comfort of touching him, feeling the solid warmth that radiated from his skin. Hannibal covered the younger man’s hand with his own. Will surprised himself into speech.

“How long? I mean how long have you been thinking of us like this?”

“Never like this. But you in my bed? Since we met. That is a conversation I would much prefer to have while conscious. Shall we try to sleep?” Will smiled and pulled the comforter around them both. Sinking into the bed, it was no time at all before his eyes closed. Safe and warm at last, next to the man that brought him both pleasure and pain, he let sleep pull him down into its sweet embrace.

For once, Will didn’t dream.


	4. Conversations and Consequences

_Warm._ Will surfaced from sleep like a deep diver, his mind taking it’s time to regain an awareness of his surroundings. He let his mind drift, not quite willing to come fully awake. The dreams he had been having pushed their way deep, slipping through the grasp of his conscious mind. They were pleasant, surreal. He remembered Hannibal and blood and… what had he been dreaming? When he finally opened his eyes, the room was still shrouded in the soft light of early morning. He could feel the chill in the air which surely meant the embers of Chiyoh’s fire had finally burned out, but beneath the covers he was so comfortable that he could easily drift back to sleep. Behind him, he could feel the hot skin of the still sleeping doctor, crowded close enough to him that he could feel Hannibal’s breath on the back of his neck. He resisted the temptation to move closer, choosing instead to carefully turn so he could look at Hannibal’s face. The older man stirred in his sleep with the movement, but didn’t wake. 

_He looks younger when he’s asleep._ The thought floated through Will’s mind as he gazed into the peaceful face. Hannibal’s hair appeared the same dark mead color as it did when it was wet, and fell casually over his forehead in an artistic disarray. The lines in his face had lost their harsh appearance, instead giving him a depth of character and personality perfectly at ease in his place. He looked peaceful, the aches from the damage to his body unimportant. Will reached out tentatively, hardly daring but unable to help himself. He carefully brushed the hair that threatened to fall into the doctor’s eyes away, marveling in the silky texture. _Of course you have to be gorgeous, even when asleep._ Will worked his fingers on Hannibal’s scalp, gently massaging, tracing down his temple to his jaw. Here he lingered, relishing in the warm, stubbled texture of the sleeping man’s bone structure before lightly tracing down the side of his neck. A sharp intake of breath, and Hannibal’s eyes opened slowly, focusing quickly on Will’s face. Closing his eyes once again, he leaned into the younger man’s touch, urging him to continue his explorations. Will obliged, beginning the trek over through the ashen hair, massaging the warm scalp, tracing the curvature of the jawline, working the muscles in the neck. Hannibal’s groan when he reached the tender skin covering his vertebrae sent electric tingles down Will’s spine and sent his imagination spinning into decadent and dangerous fantasies. _I want to hear more of that, but under different circumstances. I want you to moan for me._ Attempting to quell the hunger rising in him, Will leaned forward and kissed Hannibal’s forehead.

“Good morning. I didn’t mean to wake you just yet.” Hannibal’s breath coursed along his cheek, turning into a groan as Will found another tender spot on the doctor’s scalp. Will’s fingers tightened as his blood rushed lower and sang. _Jesus. I could wake up like this forever._ “Does that feel okay?”

“Good morning, Will. Your hands will always be a welcome indulgence. To what do I owe your affections so early in the day?” Will let his fingers continue their trek along Hannibal’s neck, massaging the corded muscle at the top of his spine.

“No real reason. I woke up and you were here. And so warm. I really just couldn’t resist. Are you able to turn on your other side for me? I’d like to try and work some of the tension out of your back. We slept for a long time.” Together they maneuvered the doctor onto his other side without much trouble and without tearing his stitches. Will’s fingers immediately gravitated towards the warmth of Hannibal’s back, grateful to be able to continue his explorations without having to make eye contact. He didn’t want the scrutiny of the rising heat in his blood. Instead, he began at the top of Hannibal’s neck, lacing his fingers through the doctor’s hair, seeking knotted muscle through the soft t shirt. He pressed a thumb into the knots, slowly working them until they relaxed, only easing when the older man tensed under his ministrations. “Let me know if I go too hard. I don’t want you to be more sore than you already are.”

Hannibal laughed, a low, deep sound that made Will’s fingers and lips tingle. “Don’t fret, Will. I wouldn’t dare complain when you are being so kind. I slept better than I had initially expected to, thanks in no small part to your body next to mine. It was very comforting, having you here with me.” The raw honesty made Will’s heart squeeze as he blushed, running a thumb along the doctor’s spine.

“Yeah, I expected to have night terrors, especially after everything that’s happened. Dolarhyde, our swim, almost losing you, Sanderson…” He felt Hannibal still under his hands and kicked himself for bringing up the other doctor. Despite the other man’s disgusting proclivities, he had intended to wait to mention him until they were both fully awake. Kicking himself for allowing his mouth to run away with him, he held his breath in anticipation of Hannibal’s judgment.

“What of Raymond, Will?” It was no small thing to hear the growl in Hannibal’s voice when he mentioned the physician by first name. Will shivered, but not from the chill in the air.

“I didn’t mean to bring him up. Well, not before we had breakfast anyway. I might as well just tell you though. He’s a monster. I’m sure you know that. He subtly made his interest in me clear, and I got the feeling that he very much wanted to hurt you. I could see inside him, see how easy it would be for him to drug and use you. He would have if you were alone. He wanted it, almost as much as he wanted to do the same to me.” Will paused, letting the anger cool before he continued. “I also… may have threatened him before he took his leave.”

“I know.” Will’s hand stilled. He could hear the smile, the dark satisfaction in Hannibal’s voice, frowning in the wake of the confession.

“What do you mean you know? I thought you were asleep from the medication he gave you.” Hannibal sighed, worked to turn around and face the younger man. It left him breathing hard, eyes tight from pain. Will helped as much as he could, ensuring the doctor didn’t pull open his stitches. 

“No. I was awake for much of the surgery. I have the disadvantage of a high tolerance to narcotics. They’re difficult to administer in such a dosage to prove effective for longer than a few minutes without causing the additional affect of an overdose. Our good doctor does not have such a talented hand, so I did not ask and instead endured. I was awake when he was stitching my wounds closed, and I was aware of the conversation you two shared. Tell me, Will. What was going through your mind when you came to realize what kind of beast lies within Doctor Sanderson?” Will’s hands flexed as his jaw clenched tightly.

“I couldn’t believe he could be so… rude.” Hannibal smirked as he said it. _Indeed._ “The idea that he felt he could take what he wanted at what he assumed was us at our weakest sickened me. I could feel it in him. He wanted very much to separate us, like a lion cordons off the weakest gazelle. He wanted to use one of us, sexually at first, but then just to carve into us to see what he could find and remove inside. He’s done it before, I’m assuming many times. The killing though, that’s recent. It’s something he’s experimenting with, looking for inspiration. Before, he stuck to being a serial rapist to men so secure in who they are that they would not admit, even to themselves, that they had been used in such a manner. He likes to exploit those who he sees as the epitome of masculinity. Men that would never dream of being with another man. He drugs them, uses them, makes sure there is enough damage to feel, then uses their blatant denial that anything could happen to them to his advantage, making them feel like they were to blame for what happened. He wants them to know they were violated and that they have no power. That is his design.”

Hannibal’s eyes darkened, the smile on his face growing predatory in the glee radiating from the monster inside him. “I see your skills in identifying the patterns of acts of violence have not lost their keen edge. Rape, as primal an urge as it is, is not about the sexual act itself, but the ability to control another person, have power over him during and after the act itself. How do you think he felt, knowing that you are unafraid of him?”

“He did not take it well. He was afraid when he left, truly afraid. But it doesn’t mean he won’t come to a different conclusion when he’s no longer so close to the situation. He may get angry.” Will lifted his eyes to meet Hannibal’s dark gaze, shivering with the heat he saw reflected. “Do you have to be treated by him further? I’d much rather ensure he can’t lay his hands on you again.”

“He will need to return for a followup visit. I am not so flexible that I can care for the stitches in my back, and although I would trust you with my life, I do not believe you will want to take part in their removal. I will not put that kind of pressure on you when I have a doctor at my disposal, especially one that owes me such a considerable favor.”

Will hesitated before asking the next question, afraid of the answer. “How… how do you two know each other? He mentioned he used to be a patient, but his actions imply that there was more to it than that.”

“Are you inferring that we were lovers, Will?” Will’s jaw clenched at the idea. He averted his eyes, breathing down his immediate anger.

“Were you?”

“Would it bother you so much if we were?”

“Just answer the question, Doctor Lecter.” Hannibal felt the grin and quelled it before it raised to the surface. _Interesting_.

“We were not in any way intimate. Raymond was referred to me after suspicion of him arose concerning the son of a prominent lawyer and a particularly violent incident. The boy also sought therapy, but sadly, not from me. I may have been able to convince him to take action regarding his assailant. Nevertheless, my services ensured that the good doctor was considered rehabilitated. He has been keeping a low profile since, although the turn of events concerning you are unsettling. He has fixated on you, not just because of your considerable charms, but because of your obvious connection to me. I have yet to discover in which direction his obsession may drive him, but if he chooses the wrong path, I don’t believe it will be without it’s own just consequences.”

“So you brought an unstable psychopath into our home to treat you, and expect me to play nice until we are healed.” Will let the accusation hang, giving Hannibal the time he needed to craft his response.

“I expect nothing of you except what you are willing to give. If the behavior continues in the fashion is has thus far, I will not fault you for your actions.”

Will laughed. “Are we considering this free range rude, doctor?” Hannibal smiled, stretching tentative fingers to caress the younger man’s cheek. Will’s breath stuttered, releasing a hum deep in his throat. He leaned into the careful touch, allowing his eyes to shutter closed.

“We have a profound understanding on my opinion of the rude.” 

“On that we can agree.” A contented silence spread between them. Hannibal, ever cautious in his attention, continued to stroke his fingers along Will’s cheek. The younger man lay with his eyes closed, obvious enjoyment raw on his face. The eyes that opened to greet the doctor’s were calm. The dark had retreated once more.

“ Are you hungry? I would really prefer you to relax in bed. The last few days have definitely taken their toll and most of it is my fault. I can make you breakfast in bed.” Hannibal grinned.

“Are you offering to showcase your culinary skills beyond the fabled chicken soup of which I have yet to partake? I am feeling better than I expected, but if you wish to indulge, I certainly won’t argue. I feel I need more strength for such endeavors.” Will laughed, wagging a finger in jest in Hannibal’s direction.

“Hey, don’t get used to the treatment. I would just rather avoid visits from my antagonizers until absolutely necessary. Relax. Fall back to sleep if you want. I will wake you when your food is ready.” On a whim, he reached for Hannibal’s hand. Bringing the knuckles to his lips, he placed a small, lingering kiss on the doctor’s warm skin. He heard the sharp intake of breath, and raised his eyes to meet pools heated amber and maroon. Hannibal’s lips were slightly parted, his pupils warm and swollen. Lightning exploded down Will’s back at the look, making him shiver. While he could, he rolled off the bed and made his way to the door. Pausing at the doorway, he turned back to look at Hannibal. Hair slightly rumpled, eyes warm and inviting, Will almost went back to him, just to hear the gasp as he took advantage of that mouth. _Not yet. All good things come to those who wait. But damn, it isn’t easy when he looks good enough to eat._

“I’ll be back shortly. Holler if you need anything.” Hannibal closed his eyes, breathing in deeply and sank back into the pillows. His lips parted slightly and he tipped his head back onto the pillow. _Fuck. Holy fuck_.

“Don’t worry about me, Will. I’m sure I can find ways of relaxing while you’re away.” Heated fantasies of Hannibal’s hands on his down hard length, working himself into a frenzy filled Will’s mind causing his blood to heat and pool in a decidedly inconvenient area. He could hear the grin in the doctor’s voice has he turned around to exit the room.

***

The kitchen was still intimidating in the daylight. Will padded across the polished floors, taking in yet another immaculate room to Hannibal’s home. _Cabin my ass._ The cabinets were made of oak framed glass, giving a delightfully modern look to the warmth of the wood. The counter tops were made of pale marble, all appliances cold stainless steel. The stove, much to Will’s delight, was gas. _As if Hannibal would own anything less but the best._ He walked to the refrigerator, opening the door to inspect the contents. Knowing the older man’s taste for the rare and exotic, he didn’t want to get his hopes up that there may be something easy for him to prepare. He was pleasantly surprised to find, amongst the finer dining choices that were obviously Hannibal’s selections, staples for everyday cooking. He found a package of thick cut bacon, grease marked from the butcher, eggs, various cold cuts and recognizable vegetables, as well as a variety of cheeses, flour, yogurt, dark chocolate, a generous selection of fruits, and two different types of bread. Wandering into the pantry, he took a mental inventory of the dry goods available to him, contemplating. His mind was made up the second his eyes found exactly what he was unconsciously hoping for- maple syrup. Grinning, he pulled it off the shelf _(leave it to Hannibal to only have organic, pure maple_ ) and gathered the rest of the ingredients he would need.

30 minutes later, he opened the bedroom door to find Hannibal sitting up in bed, reading a novel. He paused, admiring the scene. He had never seen the man look so relaxed, had never been able to picture him in anything as remotely domestic as a plain white t shirt and flannels. _What is it about a white shirt that is so appealing?_ He stepped into the room with a tray containing a pile of fluffy pancakes, a warmed container of syrup, a perfect pat of butter, crispy rashers of bacon and a small bowl containing a selection of cleaned and cut berries. He also brought a round of pain medication, a cup of strong, freshly ground and brewed coffee and a cup of orange juice. Hannibal set his book down immediately, raising an eyebrow.

“Breakfast in bed, Will? I do not think I have indulged in such a manner since I was a child.” Maneuvering the tray to the doctor’s lap, Will grinned.

“Well don’t get used to it, but I think we could both use a little indulging. Please start eating. I’ll bring my own food along in a minute.”

“I wouldn’t dream of starting without you. It’s rude to eat while the chef is still cooking.”

“Suit yourself. I really would make those pancakes the way you want them. Don’t want them to get cold.” Will padded out of the room and returned with an identical tray with a less powerful narcotic to help ease the pain that set in during the night. His cheek ached, as well as his shoulder and chest. _Two days more before the pain begins to ease. Everyone knows the second day’s the worst of it._

Hannibal had begun to cut his pancakes into precise bites, and as Will sat to prepare his food, he speared a section of food and held it to his nose, inhaling.

“Do I detect cinnamon, clove and nutmeg in these? An unusual choice, but they smell delectable.” Will nodded, pleased.

“This is a recipe I picked up a long time ago. I once had pancakes just like this while visiting a small cafe at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. I’ve been trying to perfect the recipe ever since. This is the closest I’ve gotten so far.” Hannibal watched him tell this story, enraptured in the new piece of Will’s past and sentiment. He smiled, taking a bite. The sound that escaped his throat made Will drop his fork.

“These are delicious. I had no idea you could elevate such a simple food. Really, Will. These pancakes are perfection.” Spearing another bite, he once again savored the warm scent before eating. _You are full of surprises. How else will you surprise me today?_

Will’s eyes shone with the pleasure of watching Hannibal devour the food on his plate in measured bites. Taking to his own fork, he speared a fresh strawberry, enjoying the way the tart fruit burst on his tongue. “Maybe someday we can visit the cafe. I’m sure with your refined palate, you’d be able to give me exact measurements for the spices they use.” Hannibal smiled, taking another bite. Swallowing, he reached over and touched Will’s hand.

“I’d be delighted to travel to the ends of the world with you, Will. That, and then some. There is nowhere we cannot go.” Will snorted.

“It probably wouldn’t be wise to return to Wolf Trap, but sure.” Hannibal laughed. “Other than that, I can’t think of anywhere I wouldn’t want to see.” _Preferably holding your hand while I do it._

“We will make a list. There are so many things I want you to experience. I would love to draw you, the look on your face when you see the wonders the world has to offer." Hannibal paused, considering, before continuing. "I sketched your face when I met you in Italy. I wanted to remember the look you had, seeing me after so much time had passed. I have often visited that moment in our history and wished that the events of that time had transpired differently. I have…” His eyes traveled to Will’s hairline, to the faded scar of the doctor’s interrupted meal. “…Regrets. There is much of our past that could have been altered to a more positive outcome. We could have avoided much of the unpleasantness.”

Will set his fork down, chewing slowly as he contemplated how to respond. Setting his tray aside, he shifted his body so he could face Hannibal. He moved the man’s tray off his lap, settling himself in its place, effectively straddling his lap. He took one of the other man’s hands in his, feeling the slight tremble. He placed the hand on his swiftly beating heart and held it there, letting the doctor feel the rhythmic pounding. Will caught his gaze and held it before speaking.

“Do you feel that, Doctor Lecter?” He could see how the contact was affecting his friend, reveled in it.

“Yes.” Hannibal’s voice came out as no more than a whisper. Will smiled, releasing the other man’s hand, unsurprised when he didn’t remove it. Instead, Hannibal spread his fingers, seeking more contact. Will shifted closer and took the other man’s face in his hands. Tilting his head back, he held the other man’s gaze for reassurance as he descended. Hannibal’s pupils gave him away, blown wide with desire. The first brush of lips was much as their first kiss, a gentle press of skin. Will gripped Hannibal’s hair, angled his face and sealed their lips. The contact was incendiary, lips dragging, the ebb and flow of power heady and intoxicating. Hannibal gasped into Will’s mouth and he took advantage of the movement to brush his tongue along the other man’s upper lip, begging entrance. Lips parted, their tongues touching for the first time, tasting. Hannibal gripped the other man’s t shirt, pulling him closer as he mapped the inside of his mouth, savoring the experience. He tasted of sunshine and cinnamon, delightfully heady and utterly addicting _I should have known how incredible you would taste._

All too soon, Will pulled back and rested his forehead against the other man’s. They were both breathing hard, drunk from the delights of the kiss. Touching Hannibal’s face, he brought him back to the present.

“And that? That's how you make me feel. We could not have gotten here, share what we do now, had we not been through all of the trials it took to get here. My encephalitis and incarceration. The lies and pain. They inevitably brought us to this moment. Relationships… they’re not just about flowers and fireworks and bursts of light. They’ve got thorns and ghosts and grief. There are things our feelings have learned to grow around. But it will be as it’s always been between us; beautiful.” Hannibal sat in stunned silence as Will picked up the trays and passed the doctor’s back to him.

“Let’s finish eating. I’d like to get the soup for tonight started, and I’d like you in the kitchen with me so we can talk. Afterward, I thought you’d might indulge me with a tour of your home.” Hannibal picked up his fork and began to eat.

“I believe you mean our home. And anything, Will. Anything you want.” Will smiled.

***

“I wouldn’t add the cumin until the chicken has begun to cook. Spicing food is a delicate thing. It will likely overpower the flavor of your meal if you add it now.” Will gritted his teeth and turned to face the doctor, who was sitting at the counter and watching with some amusement as the younger man worked.

“I didn’t bring you down here for your opinion on my culinary skills. Talk to me about something besides our meal or we will be getting fast food for dinner.” Hannibal grimaced, watching with trepidation as another spice was added to the pot, but indulged the request.

“How are you feeling about this new life on the lam? Are you regretting your decision to join me?” Will hesitated, but spoke without turning around.

“No. I have no regrets about the path I’ve chosen. It was right for me and everyone involved. Eventually, I would have become… this. I can only truly be all aspects of who I am with you, and with you is where I want to be.” He continued to stir, adding the fresh herbs before covering the pot to simmer. “It would have come to this eventually, Hannibal. There is nothing I can do to fight my nature, and those I left behind… they’re going to be fine without me. I will tell you that until you mentioned it just now, I have not spared them a thought. Not my family, or Jack, or even Alana. I’m sure there will be an adjustment period for them, but it was my version of a person suit. Something ill fitting that always scratched at my skin, begging to be shed.”

Hannibal smiled, unsurprised by Will’s confession. “And what do we have that is so different from what you had with your family? Surely there were times you felt complete?” Will grinned and turned to face his friend.

“Are you fishing, Doctor?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean?” 

Will walked to the other side of the kitchen so he could stand in front of the older man, noting the heated gaze down his body as he moved. _What will it be like to be with you, Doctor Lecter?_

“If you want me to tell you I’m more attracted to you than I was my wife, all you have to do is ask. She was a bandage. Someone to hold to the hole you left in my heart when you were gone. An emptiness I didn’t even realize I had. It consumed me without me knowing. The dark was always there, and it called for the only person who’s ever been able to temper it, even if it was for your own selfish reasons.” Will paused, feet away but able to see the subtle changes in Hannibal’s face. He watched cautious joy, fear, sorrow flit across his features before they settled into blank politeness. _That won’t do, Doctor. I want the real you, not the mask._

“I asked Bedelia once if you were in love with me. Did she tell you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Did she tell you what she told me?” 

“No. She wished me to admit my feelings without the possible influence of revealing how you felt.”

“Not felt. Feel. Would you like to know what she said?” Hannibal nodded. “When I asked, she told me this: ‘Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you ache for him?’” Will walked around the counter, pulling Hannibal around on the stool until he could step into the vee his legs made. Placing his hands on the older man’s shoulders, he held his gaze, asking without speaking. _Was she right?_

“Bedelia had flashes of insight when it came to you. I did not do nearly as a thorough job as I would have liked in covering my feelings.” Will’s hands shifted from the doctor’s shoulders to his hair. Tugging lightly, he tilted Hannibal’s face, bringing their lips together. Hannibal wound his arms around the other man’s slim waist, pulling him close. Their lips parted, tongues curling as they came together, tasting and mapping the contours they explored, reveling in the new intimacy they shared. Sparks crawled up Will’s spine, scalp tingling. _God._ He was going to have a serious problem keeping his hands off of Hannibal while he healed if they kept this up. Reluctantly, he pulled back, nipping at the reddened lips presented to him, regretting the necessity.

“I want you. I chose you. I’m sifting through the rest, letting the wreckage of my life build me into something strong, someone who can be at your side. It’s going to take me some time, but I never want you to doubt that I ache for you.” Hannibal’s eyes closed momentarily, and the look he gave him when he opened his eyes flushed Will’s cheeks with heat. _He’s just as affected. Who would have known that Hannibal Lecter could feel something so deeply?_

“Tell me, Doctor Lecter. Do you feel nourishment at the sight of me?”

Hannibal watched him with hooded eyes, swollen pupils surrounded by a glaze of maroon. I even love the bloodstains in his eyes. He lifted Will’s hand to his lips, kissing the pulse point on the inside of his wrist. Will shuddered from the contact, willing his burgeoning erection to dissipate. They couldn’t, and until it was possible, he had to control himself. _I want him, though. I want to feel his skin on mine, I want to taste him. I want to touch him in ways I’ve only imagined. It’s all within my reach. Just a little more patience. For God’s sake, I have to get ahold of myself._

“Are you asking the question now, Will? Are you sure you want the answer?” Will’s head spun, questioning whether it was wise to move so fast. _But it isn’t fast. We’ve been dancing around one another for years._

“I’d rather know now if we are to part ways, before things go too far.” 

“Very well. Love is a complex emotion, much as Doctor Du Maurier tried to enlighten me. For all the woman’s faults, she has a keen sense of the web we have created around one another over our many years of association. From first time I saw you Will, what you are called to me. The way you spoke of Freddie Lounds’s indecencies with her handling of photographs for her little website… you didn’t speak of the gruesome nature of the crimes. You spoke only of her need to exploit the scene to her advantage. Your darkness, even at that time, was already beginning to show. The more I heard you speak, from explaining your need for no eye contact to your inane remarks about your disinterest in me, the more I wanted to know what I could do to make you crack. Yes, for a time I wanted to see what would happen, but the more time we spent in each other’s company, the more interesting you became, and I found that I wanted to feed the darkness in you. I know my methods were… unorthodox.” Will snorted.

“You mean the manipulation or the blatant disregard for my wellbeing, or planting evidence in my home to land me in jail and leaving me to the tender mercies of Doctor Chilton?” Hannibal looked chagrined. 

“All of it. Each action I took was another chess piece in place, another maneuver to bring you closer to your becoming. I wanted to see you blossom into the man I knew you could be, not stagnate and wither at the mercy of Jack Crawford and his blatant exploitation of your gifts. I wanted to drive you to the brink, but not over the precipice. He would have watched you fall and while you were breathing your last, asked you for assistance on a final case.” The bitterness in his voice was obvious as was his dislike for Jack. The doctor closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to rein in his contempt.

“When you were in the hospital, I kept your weekly appointment. I sat in my office and contemplated my moves and if they were right for what I wanted for you. For us. I knew I had miscalculated when I didn’t treat your encephalitis, and I suspected I would have to go to great lengths to gain your trust. There were elements I could not predict, and it made you the most interesting person I’d ever encountered. I have spent my time finding ways to make the world around me as I want it, but you threw a wrench in my plans with every turn, and in the most unexpected ways. I found myself infatuated, something that has never truly happened to me. I didn’t appreciate your hold over me, and didn’t want it to continue. that is, until I understood just how deeply we have become entwined. There is no me as I am now without you. There hasn’t been since before we met again in Italy. When you spoke of not surviving our separation, it was the first time I felt that I had no control over my emotions, let alone the outcome of this dance we had begun. I felt the only way I could quell my need for you was to consume you, literally and utterly. I didn’t want to need you, but I can't live without you.” Hannibal chanced a glance into Will’s eyes, silently begging him to understand.

The look on Will’s face surprised him. The pale blue eyes stared back into his, unblinking and with such complete empathy that Hannibal wanted to weep. _At every turn,_ _you still manage to surprise me._

“When I was captured, I spent many months in my memory palace, searching for the places you resided. I had unknowingly built entire wings dedicated to my feelings for you. I found you interwoven with places that I hold most dear. You have spent time with those others who have moved me. Mischa, Abigail… they reside with you, and apart from you. The lines of places you belonged forever blurred, and when I allowed Jack to catch me I did so not only to ensure you could always find me, but I also ensured I could never escape you.” Their fingers entwined as Hannibal drew Will back into his embrace. Arms encircled the former profiler’s waist as Hannibal buried his face into Will’s chest, inhaling deeply.

“And one day, just as I predicted, you walked back through those doors and into the game we had created together. Jack had his claws in you again to be sure, but I helped you because I wanted to see you. I did not expect you to devise a plan to set us both free. I never expected to be able to touch you again, and suddenly, I was in my own home with you at my side. Dolarhyde was the key to your freedom as much as mine, but with all of my planning and cultivating, I could never completely predict what you would do. Watching you with my knife was like bearing witness to a perfect symphony, one you created in your mind and performed completely without missteps or need for practice. Every move you made, every cut, perfectly choreographed. The way you felt, the way you looked on that night… I spoke with you once about seeing you every day for the rest of my days. That night is in harmony with our meeting at the Uffizi Gallery, a mirror of your unwillingness to accept who you are and your choice to embrace your darkness. I saw your transformation and realized how little influence I truly had in your actions. While I planted the idea in your mind of the impermanence of the cliff side, I had no way of knowing you would take a leap into the depths below. When we survived, I had my doubts if you would want to be by my side. You had come into yourself most magnificently, but you could have outgrown me in the process. This was a possibility I had not considered and one I feared most. That fear, above all other incidents and emotions, brought me to the profound understanding of the breadth and depth for which my emotions regarding you have grown.” Will looked down into the eyes of the man who held him in his grasp, trying to understand the meaning behind the doctor's poetry and failing.

“You always did have a way with words, Hannibal. I don’t believe you answered the question though, you just managed to find a long way around it, artfully skirting it like you always have. While I told you once that I prefer the sin of omission, I can’t bear an indirect answer right now. Please answer the question. Are you in love with me?”

“That is not the question you asked.” 

“It is now.”

“I will answer on the condition that you also respond to the question I ask you. Do you agree?” The younger man hesitated.

“Always with manipulating your way into the upper hand. I’m not even sure if I want the answer anymore.” Will sighed, freeing himself from Hannibal’s grasp and walking back into the kitchen. Lifting the lid to the pot with the beginnings of broth cooking, he found a spoon to taste. _Needs a little more salt, and maybe thyme-_

“Yes.” The spoon clattered out of his hand as he whirled to face the older man.

“I’m not sure I heard that. What did you say, Doctor Lecter?” Hannibal closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Will grinned and retrieved the spoon, taking it to the sink to rinse it so it could be used again. He paused directly across from where Hannibal sat with his eyes closed, praying for patience. “Are you going to answer me?”

Maroon eyes met blue, the complex emotions brimming in their crimson depths staggering. If Will had any doubts, they were erased in the soul-changing look in Hannibal’s eyes. “I said yes, you insufferable man. Yes, I’m in love with you. Although I don’t understand why this is the statement you wish to hear. I can and have given voice for my love for you in a thousand other ways. In the equivalence of words enough to fill libraries and in letters tall enough to reach the stars. I’ve spoken in countless moments and in endless combinations. It runs beneath my skin at depths that cannot be professed in such a pedestrian phrase, three common words that are spoken millions of times each and every day by people who cannot imagine how inadequate those words are at coming within light years of what I feel for you.” Hannibal stood, startling Will to immobility.

“Hannibal… Hannibal, your wounds-” The older man kept approaching, making his way into the main space of the kitchen to crowd Will against the counter. Bracketing his hips and gripping the counter he was pressed to, he ensnared the former profiler, moving as close as possible without physically touching. Will’s resolve melted as he felt the doctor’s breath ghost across his skin as the older man leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“My wounds be damned. If this is what you want to hear, then you will hear it in its entirety. In your own words, many years ago, you wanted to know if we would survive separation. The answer is in front of you. You are mine, and if you were before it has been solidified from this moment forward until all life within us ceases. Your heart, your body, your mind, they belong to me as surely as mine are yours. We echo in one another a profound empathetic understanding to which only songs and epics can attest and we will make a story for the ages.” Hannibal caught Will’s chin gently, tilting his mouth up to meet it in a blistering kiss. Will shuddered and dropped the spoon once again to plunge his hands into the doctor’s soft hair, pulling hard enough to draw a breathy gasp out of delicious parted lips. Hannibal caught his hips and held him still, rocking his own hips down with enough force for Will to feel the burgeoning, hot length of the doctor’s erection. In a single, shining moment, his senses zeroed in on the incredible feeling of Hannibal’s cock pressing into him, hard as iron against his hip. Without thinking, Will sank his teeth into Hannibal’s lower lip, bringing it into his mouth to sip. Hannibal’s hands spasmed at his hips, a growl released deep within his chest. Pulling his mouth away, he leaned his face into the warm skin of his neck, nibbling down the taut, salty flesh. Will’s head tipped back as a groan wound its way up his throat, the lips on his neck driving him mad with need. It had been so long since he had felt any kind of passion when touching someone, and what he felt for Hannibal amplified the sensations of what he was experiencing. The relentless presses of hips and the lips at his throat were swiftly bringing him to the brink. His mind reeled, trying to rein in his desires. _No, I will not come in my pants like a teenager._

“Hannibal-” An answering lick along his Adam’s apple caught his breath, short circuiting his brain.  
“Hannibal, we have to stop-” The lips on his throat stilled, drew back from his skin. At once, Will ached at their absence. Hannibal released him, breathing hard. His erection was still pressed against Will’s thigh, hot and tight. The thought of touching him, tasting that silk and steel flesh… Will trembled. Their breath mingled in the small space between them and Will longed to pull the older man back into his embrace and rut against him until they both spilled their seed. _I won’t let this moment be our first time together. I want him fit and well before we explore the possibilities of passion between us._

“My apologies, Will. You have a rather singular ability to make me forget myself.” Hannibal straightened and dropped his arms from where he had Will pinned to the counter. Maneuvering carefully back, Will could see the obvious effect of their passions, the older man looking as desire ridden as he himself felt. There was a thin sheen of sweat on the doctor’s skin, his back flush and hot beneath the thin material of the shirt. Hannibal turned his head slightly as he moved out of the space. “I believe I will take my leave for the time being and let you finish your soup in peace. You should use a different spoon to test that broth. Twice to the ground will leave us tasting things better left untouched.” The words, an obvious jab at Will's request, caused his gut to clench.

“Hannibal, wait-” But the older man walked stiffly from the room, leaving Will panting against the counter, more confused and turned on than he had ever remembered being. They had yet to fully touch, yet Hannibal’s kisses against his skin marked him like an invisible brand. Will knew he should go after him, clear up the obvious misunderstanding, but he couldn’t bring himself to move from the counter. Instead he stood, wondering how in he was going to survive a lifetime of miscommunication. _That is_ , he thought bitterly, _if we don’t get caught or kill one another in the healing process._

***

In the hours that filled the rest of the day, Will went out of his way to give Hannibal space. He knew his actions had been taken as rejection, but he had never been good at confronting his emotions, let alone taking another’s into account. While he could get inside the head of any killer by using his empathetic gift to become them, Hannibal was a mystery to him. Rather than forcing another confrontation, he explored the house alone. The darkness that followed Hannibal’s departure clung to him like a web, sticky and impossible to remove. Coming to the steps of the sterile room below, Will ran his hand down the heavy door that lead to Hannibal’s sanctuary within the house. He wondered, briefly, if it held a freezer, then decided it would be something to ask the doctor to show him rather than discover it for himself. _I am taking an interest in our shared extracurricular activities. That should make him happy_ he thought bitterly.

Moving through the lower floor, he discovered the entrance to the house contained large windows along the wall, showcasing a beautiful antique harpsichord. Along the adjoining wall stood nondescript cream furniture that looked decadent and comfortable, but not as stylish as Hannibal’s usual taste. He briefly wondered if someone else had picked them out, then pushed the unpleasant thought from his mind, not wanting to picture anybody else looking with familiarity at their space. Knowing what lay beyond the hall, Will instead wandered up into the top floor. Upon coming to the landing, he realized that the top section was split into two massive wings, separated by an open hall that spanned six feet between them. The landing came into the middle of the hall, allowing him to choose which direction he wanted to explore. Turning left, he opened the first of two doors, discovering a beautifully decorated office, including a large desk, a plush tan leather couch and two matching leather armchairs. The walls were covered floor to ceiling in bookcases, each shelf filled with volumes ranging from fiction to medical journals. He walked the room, hands running across the books as his mind wandered. The room brought forth the memories of his first psychiatric visits with Doctor Lecter, those tense moments with his back pressed to the ladder, wondering wildly if Hannibal meant to kiss him. Although it didn’t happen, the intimacy of the moment caused a shift in Will’s psyche, confidently checking the “friend ( _who am I kidding, I always wanted more than that_ )” box next to Hannibal’s name, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Everything that happened tested that inner decision, but he never wavered in his convictions.

Closing the door, he moved to the room further down the hall, and was disappointed to find it empty, filled with the air of neglect a long unused space can have. He turned and made his way to the other end of the hall, opening the first door he came to. This appeared to be Chiyoh’s room, and although curious, he did not want to pry into the life and belongings of the woman who had both threatened and saved his life. Ignorance seemed the safer option. This left just one room, one place left to explore. Feeling an unreasonable trepidation, he pushed the door open, revealing to him a sight that left him reeling. Inside, the decor spoke one unmistakable name, her sweet face never far from his thoughts. He didn’t hear Hannibal approach until his quiet words spoke from behind him.

“This was the room I had waiting for her. When the teacup still had it’s moment to come together, this place… I built it for us. A chance to be a proper family.” Will couldn’t take his eyes off the room, the ghost of the girl he thought of as his daughter present in every corner and object. 

Hannibal stepped behind him, carefully avoiding any physical contact. Their moment in the kitchen was obviously not forgotten, even in the face of such pain. Will wanted nothing more than to turn his face into the man’s chest and cry, but he knew it would be unacceptable to do so. Instead, he cleared the thickness in his voice before attempting to speak.

“Did she ever get to see what you built for her? Was she at least… was she here to enjoy it?” Hannibal lowered his eyes, fixing his gaze on the chair in the corner, a wooden rocker with what appeared to be a crocheted blanket across the back. _Did you get a chance to sit here and wrap yourself from the cold, watch the world outside this window? Did you ever sleep in this bed, or think of us all together and happy? Did you see what I saw for us?_

“We came here for a time so I could keep her safe from your gaze until the timing was right. She enjoyed the chance to be outdoors very much. The property here is large, secluded. She was able to follow her nature and spend much of her time wandering the woods. She even killed and butchered a deer, brought it home and wrapped it herself. The meat was incredible. No bitterness from fear." Hannibal's swallow was loud in the silence that followed his statement. "She always was a good shot.” 

The lump that formed in Will’s throat choked him, making it difficult for him to breathe. _I’m drowning in this room, drowning and the only person that can save me is the man that ended the possibility of this happiness_. A cry rose up, bursting from his chest before he could stop it, his chest hitching. Hannibal reached for him then, intending to comforting him, but for Will, it it was too much. Too many emotions culminated into one small space, too much bitterness and love and hate, all vying for dominance within his body, threatening to crush him. Before the doctor’s hand could descend on his shoulder, Will spun on his heel and fled the room, leaving Hannibal once again alone in the wake of his devastating inability to control the pain they shared.

***

Will rushed down the stairs, pausing to pull on his boots and a jacket over the t shirt and pants he wore, before he rushed out the front door. He needed to be away from the house, her scent and the memories that ate at him, all the reminders of his failures. The ghost of Abigail clung to him like perfume, wrenching a wretched, wrecked sound from his throat. Following the path away from the house, winding towards the back of the property, his mind tried to outrun the memory of Hannibal slicing into her neck, her blood spilling down her front. He lost himself in the phantom feeling of her body getting cold as he clung to her, both left to bleed out on the floor of Hannibal’s home, the man himself having disappeared into the night. Will had been given a cut that would all but guarantee his survival; Abigail had been cut in a way to ensure her death. Her terrified eyes were imprinted on the insides of Will’s eyelids. He saw her so often in his dreams, it was no longer a surprise to find her there. The path took him through the trees and within a half mile, it opened up to a large lake, complete with dock and a small boat. Will walked towards it, his mind still lost in the memories of Abigail’s death, completely unaware of his surroundings until his feet hit the wood of the wooden slats. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, trying to come back to himself. _My name is Will Graham. I am in the middle of a forest on the property of Doctor Hannibal Lecter. He sometimes eats people, but it’s okay because they usually deserve it. He killed the first person I’ve tried to protect in my wretched life, left her to die in my arms. He is a monster, but so am I. She never stood a chance, not with us._

In the recesses of his mind, Abigail walked along the dock and came to sit beside him. The heady scent that always announced her arrival, honeysuckle and blood, filled his nostrils, calming him amidst the roiling chaos of his emotions. Leaning back on her phantom hands, she regarded him with a small smile.

“Why did you run, Will?” When he didn’t respond, the girl beside him let her eyes wander out to the expanse of the lake, watching him from the corner of her eye. “Hannibal let me choose my own decor you know. I thought I would shock him, all those kitschy blankets and the rocking chair. Like living with a grandma. He went along with everything I wanted to buy, though. He told me it was my space, and I could have everything I wanted.” Her laughter tinkled in the air like broken glass.

“Do you know what I wanted more than anything? More than all the blankets and rockers and deer in the world? I wanted us to be a family. I wanted to wake up and make pancakes with you. I wanted you to teach me to fish." She paused, regarding his face with the same earnestness she had in life. "Do you think I would have been any good at it? For all my skinning skills, I was always a little afraid of live bait.” Will looked at her then, a sob wrenched from his throat.

“I’m so sorry Abigail. I’m so sorry. I wanted to save you. I wanted it all. That’s why I told him to run. I could have met up with you. We would have been fine, but he took my plea as a rejection. He took my flesh and he took your life. I know I have to forgive him, but I don’t know how to forget you. I don’t know how to let you go.” He leaned into the girl who wasn’t there, crying onto her shoulder as if his heart would shatter. She kissed the top of his head, her lips nothing more than the wind’s caress. She let him cry, release his pain onto her, absorbing the memories, the fear that he still tried so desperately to cling to. Agonizing minutes went by as he poured out all of his rage and guilt into the tears streaking down his cheeks. Finally, the tears began to ebb, leaving nothing but a quiet emptiness where she had been. The wind ruffled his curls as he imagined Abigail, throat whole, holding him.

“I was meant to protect you, you know. Not the other way around.” She smiled, fingers whispering through his hair.

“We protect each other. I know you want to hold on to me, but you can't, not and move on from this sorrow you cling to. There is no way to undo what has already been done. That does not mean all is lost for your future with Hannibal. You have to watch me die, and accept the fact that I am gone. You have released your fear and your sorrow into the waters here. You can’t keep living in a place between memories. You can’t let them hold you back from your true destiny. You know where you are meant to be, and it isn’t here with me. You have to let me go.” Fresh tears sprang to his eyes as he clung to her, inhaling her sweet scent.

“I don’t know how to say goodbye to you. I failed. Failed you, and failed myself. I took your life just as surely as Hannibal cut your throat, all because I couldn’t accept what I am.”

“What good is it doing you to cling to what could have been? Life is made of an infinite string of moments and decisions, Will. While you may have closed the door on this happiness, you opened another to different possibilities. You have to let the door stay closed. Please. Let me go.”

“I can’t.” Her hands pulled his face to look. He didn’t want to see what he knew would be there; a girl with so much to live for, life pouring down the front of her shirt in brilliant rivulets of crimson.

“You have to. Watch, Will. Watch me die. Shed the guilt, the sorrow. Help me live on by taking care of Hannibal as he took care of me. Be his light when he descends too far into the dark. Live without regret and be thankful for the things you gave me. Live for you, and love him. Love him without restraint or regret. Love your darkness and his light, and find the balance you crave in him. I loved you both so much.” He watched the girl in front of him fade, the light leave her eyes as she bled out next to him. He had to lean in to hear her last words, whispered as her lips paled.

“Be sure to think of me when you come to the water, but not in sorrow. Just spare a thought, and take the love you felt for me to the man who is waiting for your return.” He watched Abigail die again, and felt the part of him that had been clinging to the loss release, like a knot loosening after being bound too tight for too long. He took a deep breath, filling his senses with the calm around him. For the first time since her death, he didn’t feel Abigail’s presence as a stain on his soul. Standing, he dusted off his hands, vowing to return to the lake to fish in the coming days. As he turned away to begin his return journey, the air filled with the scent of honeysuckle, just for a moment. He smiled, a whisper escaping his lips.

“Goodbye, Abigail. Rest well.”

***

The house smelled of rich broth and chicken when he came out of the cold. The sun had begun its descent below the horizon while he said his goodbyes, and the walk back had been colder without his memories to distract him. He untied his boots and hung his jacket, rubbing his hands together to warm them. Walking into the kitchen, he lifted the lid and once again inspected the broth. The rich, herbal scent spread throughout the kitchen, making his stomach rumble. He removed the pot from the stove, strained the broth, then shredded the chicken that had become soft and flavorful while cooking throughout the day. He added the vegetables he had prepared earlier in the day and firm cooked noodles so they could warm and soften. Upon completion of the task, he went in search of Hannibal. 

Checking the bedroom and finding no sign, he made his way through the lower floor before ascending the steps to the level above. He checked the doctor’s office before finally turning back to Abigail’s room. He opened the door, breath catching when her scent wafted to his face. Though his heart clenched, it was not with the sorrow of before, and he paused a moment to be grateful. He breathed deeply, casting eyes around the darkened room. Curled up in the center of the bed, lay Hannibal. His hair fell over his face, and he was breathing the deep, even breaths of the truly asleep. Will sat down on the bed beside him, reaching down to run his hand through Hannibal’s silky, ashen hair. _You’re so beautiful like this. How have I ever denied how truly attractive you are?_

The doctor made a soft noise in his sleep, moving unconsciously towards his touch. Will’s heart contracted gently. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to Hannibal’s hairline, breathing in the woodsy, warm scent of his skin. Hannibal stirred in his sleep, moving towards the spot where Will was perched, in search of more contact. He obliged, swinging his legs onto the bed and leaning back, pulling the doctor’s head onto his chest. An arm came down across his waist bringing him closer. He felt the moment when Hannibal woke, the stilling of his breathing, the uncertainty if the contact was welcome. Will eased his discomfort, once again running his hands through the older man’s hair, feeling the hitch in his breathing at the contact. _We are both so wound up. So much to say, unpracticed in saying it._ He smiled and kissed the top of the doctor’s head.

“My famous chicken soup is just about ready. Are you hungry?” The rumble of Hannibal’s stomach at the mention of food was answer enough. Will laughed and moved to stand. “Want to eat in bed, or did you have somewhere else in mind? I’m happy with anywhere.” Hannibal released him, stretching carefully to avoid aggravating his stitches. The movement caused his shirt to ride up, and the stripe of skin that appeared made Will want to forgo the soup altogether. _He needs food and sleep, not you ravishing him and running away every time he confesses his emotions. Get your shit together, Graham._ Hannibal's sleep roughened voice did not help the matter.

“The kitchen counter will be fine, Will. This is hardly a formal dinner, although the smells coming from the kitchen are most tantalizing. I’m looking forward very much to whatever you have prepared.” Standing, Will turned around and offered a hand, helping him stand. They made their way out of the room, shutting the door behind them, effectively closing in all the pain this place brought them. Together, they made their way down the stairs to eat.

***

Hannibal was once again pleasantly surprised by the quality of Will’s cooking. While not as refined as his own, it had a rustic charm to it that made it absolutely delectable. Will had cut them each a thick slice of artisan bread and now sat beside him at the counter, in obvious bliss as he consumed the dish in front of him. He watched the doctor with calm eyes, the storm of the afternoon having passed, leaving clear skies in its wake. Hannibal was grateful for his calm return, unable to bear another emotional outburst like the previous one. Abigail’s room still deeply unsettled him, and knowing how it affected Will made his remorse all the worse. There was still so much left they had to say, but his intuition warned it might be best to let it lie for now and enjoy the evening without any more revelations.

When dinner was concluded, they packed the leftovers into containers to eat in the coming days and cleaned the kitchen. The task completed, Hannibal turned to Will, calculating a risk. “Would you like to retire to my office? The couch is very comfortable, and I have a bottle of whiskey begging to be opened.” Will smiled, hanging the towel he was drying his hands with.

“Lead the way, doctor.” Will’s footsteps behind him were deafening, giving away nothing in their easy stride as they followed him up the stairs and into the book filled room. Closing the door, he walked to the corner where the fireplace sat, intent on setting it ablaze. Will stepped behind him, stilling him with a hand to his shoulder before he could bend. The touch ached in its sure gentleness. _Oh. I want more of your touch. I want you, Will. I want you to be mine. I want it all._ The easy smile on Will’s face caught his breath.

“Go ahead and make our drinks. I’ll get the fire going. I don’t have two gunshot wounds. It will be easier for me.” Hannibal conceded, pouring them each two fingers of liquor and retiring to the couch with both glasses in tow. Will carefully started and fed the fire, then pulled the grate and came to sit beside Hannibal on the couch. He took the offered drink, his fingers brushing gently against the older man’s. He let the touch linger before taking the glass.

“Thanks. I’m sure it’s going to be the perfect bottle, knowing your taste.” Hannibal snorted, and took another small sip.

“The Macallan 50 year old, single malt. Forgive me for having a superior sense of taste and smell, Will. I do happen to like the finer things in life.” Will grinned against his glass, his eyes dancing.

“Present company included?” Hannibal returned his smile.

“Of course.” Will took a sip of his drink, moaning appreciatively. The sound went straight to Hannibal’s neglected cock like a velvet hand. _Cease this line of thinking this instant._

“Christ that’s smooth. I’m not sure you should be sharing a bottle like that.” Hannibal allowed himself a smile and took another small sip, letting the liquor swirl against his tongue, picking out the distinct notes of vanilla and oak commingling with a hint of spice in the particular brand he chose. He had to agree with Will’s assessment; it was a remarkably drinkable bottle. Hannibal set his glass down and fixed the younger man with a dark stare. He chose his topic carefully.

“You’re holding your shoulder with more tension that you did yesterday. Has the pain finally begun to set in?” Will rolled the shoulder in question, testing, and nodded ascent.

“Yeah, I went for a walk to clear my head. I found the lake… it’s beautiful by the way. This whole property is incredible.”

“I thought some solitude while we recover would do us some good. I’m happy you find it pleasing.” Will snorted into his whiskey glass.

“I never thought I’d live on an estate, so yeah. Pleasing is an adequate description.” A silence fell over them, neither man keen on breaking it. Will stared into the fire, rolling the delicious alcohol on his tongue. “I found Abigail out by the lake.” Hannibal said nothing, waiting for him to continue. “She’s been with me since she died.” 

“We… talk. I know you’ll have some fancy way of telling me that she’s a part of my painful memories connected to her death and that I have to find a way to deal with her before she eats me from the inside. Don’t think I don’t understand that. But I want you to know that she… that I worked it out for myself already. She was waiting here for me, though. This is where she ends and we begin, and I needed this place to say goodbye to her.” Will turned on the couch, angling towards the man at the other end. Swirling the liquid in his glass, he downed the remainder in a single gulp. 

“I have never been a good man when it comes to finding ways to protect others. Abigail… she was my first attempt at a life I thought I could have. She wasn’t mine to hold onto, though. I know that her death was part of what makes us who we are, another string in the web of events that binds us together. I loved her, more than I love myself. But I don’t love her more than I love you. She helped me work through it, come to the conclusions I already knew but needed to remind myself of. I’m not here to live through our past mistakes, Hannibal. I’m here to build a new life. One that I can share with you. I have to forgive you completely for her death. I wasn’t ready to do that until today. I opened my memories back up to the moment she died, and let her be at peace, let me make my peace. I let that part of our past end, watching her die again. I think it was the last part of who I used to be that I was really hanging onto. I needed her to help me let it go.”

Hannibal listened to him speak, not daring to hope that the words could be true. He had seen Will, tracking him in the hospital before departing for Europe with Bedelia, talking to that part of him that clung to the shattered memory of Abigail. He thought time would heal the wound as his body healed, but the mind could be far trickier entity. He mentally cursed himself for not anticipating Will’s reaction to the room upstairs, although he could sympathize. He often went there to talk to Abigail himself. He spoke, looking at the liquid within his glass as he did so. 

“One of the things that separates us from animals is our unbridled capability of violence and forgiveness for such transgressions. You understood the violence because that same darkness lives within you. It’s much more difficult for you, in no short part due to your ability to empathize with everyone around you. But your compassion brings out in you a much more satisfying contentment that can come from forgiveness when you are willing to grant it. You say that you have forgiven me, Will. I hope that in time, that proves to be true. But have you forgiven yourself?” The calm eyes that met his own spoke volumes before Will responded.

“I didn’t, not until today. Forgiveness doesn’t come easily to me, because of my capacity to feel so much from so many. But I can’t live in a world where I hold on tighter to the imagined love for a dead girl than the real love I feel for the man who rescued me from myself.” Will reached between them and took Hannibal’s hand, brushing their fingers together lightly, watching the play of their skin in the firelight. “Some part of me will always hold out hope that time could somehow reverse and bring her back to us, but I also have a firm understanding that it will not happen. You will have to teach me how to live with finality, Doctor.” Releasing him, he stood.

“Stay here. I found a book you own earlier, and it reminded me of something that resonates our current emotional imbalance. I’m sure it will be in there.” Walking to the bookcase, he selected a thin volume from one of the shelves. He took a seat, then pulled on Hannibal’s hand until the older man came closer. Arranging themselves on the couch, Hannibal rested his head in the younger man’s lap, relaxing to the gentle rhythm of him turning pages until he found what he was looking for. The hand turning the pages found their way to his scalp massaging as it wound through his tresses and down his back, relaxing him into the languid heat of the room.

“This one was always one of my favorites. I think it applies well to us, in a manner of speaking.” Will cleared his throat and began to read.

_Whose woods these are I think I know._   
_His house is in the village though;_   
_He will not see me stopping here_   
_To watch his woods fill up with snow._

_My little horse must think it queer_   
_To stop without a farmhouse near_   
_Between the woods and frozen lake_   
_The darkest evening of the year._

_He gives his harness bells a shake_   
_To ask if there is some mistake._   
_The only other sound’s the sweep_   
_Of easy wind and downy flake._

_The woods are lovely, dark and deep._   
_But I have promises to keep,_   
_And miles to go before I sleep,_   
_And miles to go before I sleep._

Hannibal eyes closed, and he let himself drift off to the sound of Will’s voice, the crackling fire the only remaining sound in the room when his words died away. Hands over the doctor’s side and in his hair, Will let the empty, euphoric feeling and the delight of the man in his arms pull him towards slumber. They tumbled towards darkness, wound together on the leather couch of Doctor Lecter’s office, mingling warmth and breath as they slept on. 

***

Neither man was awake to witness the shadow creep away from the door and down the stairs. They were not aware when the front door is pulled quietly shut, eliminating all signs the intruder was there at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pancake story is true, but from my own childhood. My mom used to make them for us in the winter. I couldn't resist adding it here.
> 
> The poem woven in at the end is Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening".


	5. Appetites

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews. A special thanks to amg for reviewing each chapter as I post them. This story has been made more enjoyable knowing others are on the journey with me.
> 
> WARNINGS: Just kidding. That would take the fun out of it.

_No… it can’t be… please… No…_

“No!” 

The cry startled Hannibal out of his slumber, brought him fully awake in an instant. He could feel the tremors in the man beneath him as the nightmare he was clearly in the throes of clawed at his mind. Hannibal struggled to a sitting position, reaching to help. Not daring to turn on the light, he examined the frightened man, falling into the medical role for which he was trained as easily as slipping on a jacket. Will’s eyes shifted beneath his eyelids, sweat pouring down his face and clinging to his shirt like a second skin, the smell of salt and fear riding the air like an electric current. His limbs shook, hands forming claws as he swiped at the invisible assailant. Without hesitation, Hannibal gripped Will’s arms, pulling him upright into an embrace. The stitches in his stomach pulled, but he paid them no heed. The younger man fought against him, holding onto the visions that clung to his psyche, unable or unwilling to wake from the dream.

“Will, listen to me. Listen to the sound of my voice. You are dreaming. Whatever is plaguing you, it’s in your mind. Follow the sound of my voice. You can fight this, my friend.” 

The man in his arms began to shake, his mouth trying to form words around the cries in his throat.

“N-no! Let him go, don’t you touch him! Han-hh-…” The ragged sound he made cracked the doctor’s heart in two. Pulling the struggling body closer, Hannibal brought his lips to the ex profiler’s temple, gentle pressure. Reaching his ear, he whispered to him, willing his mind to release him back into reality. Switching easily to his native tongue, Hannibal tried to rouse the man in his arms once more from his demons.

“Klausyk mano balso, Will. Grizk pas mane, mylimasis.” The words seemed to have more effect than his heavily accented English. He let his breath skim across Will’s skin, feeling the other man shiver beneath him, moaning. The broken sound he released into the cold night was heart wrenching.

“Tu esi mano. Tai svajone. Grizk pas mane, Will. Grizk pas mane, mylimasis.” 

Hannibal continued to whisper, stroking his hands through damp curls. Long minutes passed as the episode eased. The whimpering subsided, the tense muscles relaxed, but Will had yet to wake. Hannibal hesitated for just a moment, long enough to consider if his actions were wise given the circumstances and their tumultuous discussions throughout the day. _I need him here and safe with me. I can live with the consequences._ The older man gripped the curls his restless fingers were sifting through, angling Will’s face towards him. The first brush of lips left him as unresponsive as before, but Hannibal was nothing if not patient, even through his apprehension. The second kiss held more intent, a gentle but insistent, maddening press of smooth skin.

_Mm. Yes. Please, Will. Mylimasis. Come back to me._

Will’s eyes flew open, unable to fully focus on what was transpiring. Hannibal felt him begin to pull away and released him, tried to calm the rhythmic thumping of his heart. Will’s hand came up to his lips as if feeling for a physical mark of where Hannibal’s had been pressed only moments before. Unconsciously, they let their breathing slow, side by side on the couch, the silence thick with the unspoken horrors Will surely just witnessed. When he finally cleared his voice, Hannibal’s heart ached at the tight, frightened quality to it.

“Hannibal… What… where are we?” Will shifted, leaning into the doctor’s arms. He pressed his sweating forehead to Hannibal’s chest, breathing still ragged. Hannibal wrapped his arms around the shaking shoulders, hands finding their way into Will’s hair.

“We seem to have fallen asleep in my office. We are currently still on the couch, upstairs in my cabin.” Will raised his lips in a half smile at the word “cabin”. “You had an episode, night terrors from what I have been able to discern. I couldn’t wake you.” He paused as he felt Will tense. “I did what I thought would be most beneficial to the situation, attempted to bring you back to yourself with physical contact.” Will traced his lips with his fingertips, meeting the older man’s eyes.

“You kissed me. That’s what changed the dream. I was stuck, my hands… I couldn’t…” The empath lowered his head to the doctor’s chest, voice thick with fear. “He was hurting you. In my dream. It started out as Garret Jacob Hobbs, and I could handle it. He was taunting me, carving into you, but I could reach you. Then he… he changed.” Will swallowed. Hannibal pulled him close, stroking his fingers through Will’s thick curls.

“To whom did he change into, Will?” The younger man shuddered, the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to his psyche.

“I’d really rather not discuss it, not until daylight at least. God, I’m so sticky. I’m sorry I… clung to you like that. Your shirt is all wet.”

Hannibal looked down, taking in his appearance. His shirt was indeed damp and clinging to his skin. When he raised his eyes, Will’s were staring hollow eyed but interested at the state of the cloth and how it caused it to contour to Hannibal's body like a second skin. Fear and shame were not the only thing reflected back when he met the doctor’s gaze. 

Releasing the man in his arms was the most difficult thing he had done since pulling him to the shores of the ocean, but he hoped to remedy their current state of unease. Standing, he extended his hand to help Will do the same. He still looked pale, shaken. _I would give anything for that haunted look to disappear from your eyes._

“Will, the dream you had was very obviously traumatic. I’m sorrier than I can say that it happened to you, and after so many revelations today. Might I suggest…” He caught the younger man’s gaze, holding him in place with careful eyes. 

“Let’s make our way to the bedroom. I will start a fire to chase away the cold. I propose you shower and clean your skin of the effects of the dream. Although unusual, it may be more relaxing to do so without the lights. It will help soothe you, and won’t thrust you too quickly into the harsh reality that bright light can force. It will ground you in reality.” Will’s breath caught in his throat.

“Yes. God, yes please. But… I can’t. Not by myself.” Hannibal smiled gently.

“Would it be best if I stay with you? I understand your need for company in this moment.” He could see Will swallow hard, weighing his options. Slowly, he nodded, wrapping his arms around the taller man.

“I don’t want to be alone. And I don’t want you out of my sight. Not after… not after what I saw. Please. Just… stay with me.” The doctor nodded his ascent. 

“It would be my honor.” 

***

The bedroom was shrouded in shadows when they entered its depths. Hannibal took the lead, knowing his way around as if he had walked the space every day of his life. They stopped first at the closet to retrieve fresh clothing for Will, comfortable cotton lounging pants and another t shirt, this time black. Boxer briefs were added to the pile without a thought. Will sat on the bed, head in his hands as Hannibal completed the tasks required to help the younger man relax. The fireplace lit, the grate pulled into place, the flames danced merrily and threw enough light into the room to loosen the knot of unease in Will’s chest. His heart no longer pounding, his thoughts ebbed back into a version of the present. His mind still wouldn’t form cohesively beyond the idea that he was about to rinse himself of his nightmare, clean his body of the stink of fear. This desire commingled with the thought of Hannibal’s lips on his, the beautiful words that tumbled through his dream to find him. He didn’t understand a word, and it was what had distracted him enough to bring him back. He snorted, imagining the proverbial princess kissed to life by her one true love, thoughts of Hannibal’s mouth on his skin debauching the image of innocence his brain attempted to concoct. As his mind spun in circles, the man in question appeared at his side, offering his hand to help him stand.

“Come, with me. Let’s get you out of those clothes.” The ex profiler took the proffered hand, heart beating in his throat as he was lead to the bathroom. _God, let this be over. Please._

***

The space of the cavernous room had been transformed. A haze of heated mist was suspended in the air, diffusing the soft candlelight that gleamed from the counter top and alcove where the bathtub sat. True to his word, Hannibal kept the lights off, but managed to give Will the security of illumination without the harshness of electricity. The scene was dreamlike, a respite for his mind to cling to. The warm glow blurred their outlines, giving them both the same hazy quality of a dream. _A decidedly better dream, one I could easily fall into._ The thought eased through Will’s mind as he reached where Hannibal lead. The older man smiled, eyes soft.

“The water will help bring you back to yourself, let you anchor in the present. Do you need help with your clothing?” Will shook his head, closing his eyes. The sounds coming from the shower were perfect, a tympani of rainwater and although artificial, helped create the peaceful atmosphere he craved. He wanted noise to fill the static in his mind, sound to hold the fear at bay. He wanted… wanted…

“Hannibal.” The doctor turned, regarding Will with concern.

“Yes?” Will swallowed hard.

“Please.” The word came out in a hoarse whisper, his voice betraying his need. He licked his lips, attempting to clear his throat. His airway constricted and without warning, he couldn’t breathe. His chest felt tight, a band of lead over his lungs. Panic rose up within him as he struggled to draw in air.

A hand appeared on his back, strong fingers kneading gentle circles over the worst of the constriction. Will closed his eyes, trying to focus on nothing but the feel of the doctor’s fingers playing along his skin.

“Breathe for me, Will. Your mind is still in full flight mode, and you’re having a panic attack.” The words made sense, but the panic was swiftly overriding logic. The hands on his back gripped his shoulders, pulling until he hit the solid wall of Hannibal’s chest. His arms came forward to hold Will in place.

“Follow my breathing. You need to take in more air. Breathe in for me.” Two seconds of inhaling a full, agonizing breath. It tried to stick within his lungs, but Will pleaded the panic down. The voice came in the form of lips brushing his ear. “Good.” He continued murmuring instructions gently, accent thick and voice laced with concern. “Now let the breath out. Go slow.” Will pushed the air back through his lungs. He wanted to immediately gasp for another breath. “That’s it, Will. Slower.” He fought for control of his panic. Following the rhythm of the rising and falling chest at his back, he breathed in. Held. Then out.

“Who are you?” 

“What?” 

“Ground yourself for me. Who are you? Where are you?” Will breathed in, feeling the solid warmth behind him. _Protecting me._

“My name is Will Graham. I just woke from a nightmare in which the one I love died horribly while I was forced to watch. I saw what happened, and I was helpless to stop it. Every detail was broken down for me, piece by piece carving away my sanity.” He gulped down a breath of air. Held. Released. His voice was becoming steadier. “I’m standing in the bathroom while my ex psychiatrist and friend holds me up. He’s making me complete a breathing and grounding exercise so I’ll stop having a fit.” Hannibal’s laugh rumbled against his back, causing his stomach to tighten.

“I would never think of asking you to stop… ‘having a fit’ as you put it. Night terrors are common for you, I know. We’ve discussed your dreams at length, Will. I can only hope to offer you reassurance that it was your mind releasing the tension of the day. Breathe for me.” Hannibal’s hands bracketed Will’s hips, finding their way underneath the damp shirt and onto his overheated skin. I was all Will could do to keep from groaning with the relief of skin to skin contact. Instead, he followed the doctor’s breathing. In…hold. Out. Pause. Repeat. Slowly, finally, his heart stopped racing. The band that constricted his breathing loosened. His back and shoulder ached, his cheek felt as if it were on fire with the combination of tears and cries, stretching the stitches to their limit in short bursts. The pain helped too. If he could feel it, it had to be real. _If I can feel… I want to feel._

“Please don’t leave me.” The words brokenly spilled out before Will could stop them. Hannibal stilled behind him, holding them flush together. He slowly turned the younger man so he could see his face. His hands caught in his curls, gentle. Will wanted to weep with how good, how right it felt.

“Is this something you fear, Will? The possibility that, after all we have done for and to one another that I will grow bored of you and disappear?” Will’s eyes widened.

“No.. No. I mean, yes. That is something that concerns me for the future, but not in the immediate. I meant, please don’t leave me in here by myself. I need you, Hannibal.” The raw admission caught the older man by surprise. He smiled, reaching up to stroke Will’s uninjured cheek.

“Whatever you need from me, you have only but to ask. If it’s in my power to give you, I would gladly move mountains.” Will leaned into the touch, longing for skin.

“Shower with me.” The hand caressing his face stilled. Hannibal’s eyes gleamed, pupils expanding in the dark.

“Are you sure?” Will nodded. He had never been more sure of something in his life. Hannibal brought their faces together, laying the gentlest kiss against Will’s mouth, an exquisite brush of satin, warm and inviting. _Yes_.

“I will need your assistance preparing for the water. If I was able to do it myself, I would spare you of it, but I cannot reach the bandage on my back.” Will’s heart stilled. _Shit. I forgot. He always seems so capable, but he really is human, and injured. And here I am, demanding of him safety when I am not ensuring he heals properly._

“I completely forgot you are hurt. Could you just… sit in here and talk to me? I don’t want to slow your healing process.” Hannibal smiled, drawing Will to him in a gentle embrace.

“Do not fret over my injuries. The stitches will be removed shortly, and I had planned to rinse after you were finished. It will be much more satisfying to be with you. Help me and we can get clean.” Hannibal released him to draw the shirt over his head, letting it drop to the floor as he watched Will’s face. For a moment, Will forgot how to breathe. The t shirt was delightful, but didn’t do the doctor’s frame justice. His torso was lean and roped with finely sculpted muscle, broad shoulders tapering enticingly to his waist. The flannels he wore rode comfortably low on his hips, revealing tantalizing glimpses of the planes of his stomach where they disappeared into his pants. _Fuck he’s gorgeous._

Will’s gaze traveled up to the bandage covered flesh, wincing at the memory of Hannibal’s pain stricken face as the bullet from Dolarhyde’s gun ripped through him. Carefully, he peeled back the covering, wincing at the stitching beneath. It was still slightly red, the bruising around in an almost perfectly circular pattern. He gingerly touched the skin, hearing the shaking breath the touch caused. He quickly withdrew his hand, embarrassed.

“God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” Hannibal stopped his words with a kiss, effectively ending the stream of words coming from the younger man’s lips. 

“No more apologies, not here. Not tonight. Help me with the other bandage, please.” Will carefully pulled at the edges of the medical tape until the gauze came away, revealing an equally devastating exit wound. He swallowed back the ache at the sight, instead pulling his shirt over his head. He could feel Hannibal’s appreciative gaze on his skin and wanted more than anything to get him into the water. _To clean up, rinse the rest of the nightmares away. Nothing more than that._ Even to Will, it sounded too close to a lie. He removed the rest of his clothing without a word or a glance and padded to the shower, needing to do something to quell his nerves. Dipping his head under the water, he groaned in appreciation as the blistering heat engulfed him. Lost in thought, he let the calming warmth of the water slide over him and didn’t register Hannibal’s approach until he felt the gentle hand on his back. 

“May I do the honors?” Hannibal voice rumbled in his ears as he held up the bottle of shampoo Will had used to wash the Doctor’s hair just the night before. Will nodded and the older man opened the bottle, sending the calming herbal scent of the shampoo into the air. Dispensing it into his hands, he lathered, then reached for the other man. Will tipped his head back, giving the access the doctor silently requested. Gentle fingers worked through his hair, sending tingles along Will’s skin at the contact. Hannibal knew instinctively how much pressure to use, where to find the tension still left in Will’s scalp. The scent of the shampoo helped relax him, lulling him into the dreamlike atmosphere carefully crafted for his benefit. He tipped his head further back at Hannibal’s unspoken request, feeling the shampoo rinse from his hair. Hannibal picked up the body wash, raising an eyebrow and soaping his hands at the almost imperceptible nod.

“Give me your back, please.” Will obliged, bracing his hands on the wall in front of him and groaning as Hannibal’s soapy hands found his neck, working down the delicate muscles to release the tension his dream had caused. When he was satisfied, he moved his hands to Will’s shoulders thumbs digging into each hard knot he found. Will moaned, breathing sharply through his teeth as Hannibal grazed the wound in his shoulder. An apologetic kiss was placed on the affected area as the talented hands moved along the expanse of the younger man’s back, loosening the tension until he felt nearly boneless with relaxation. Still he worked, kneading down Will's ass, massaging the firm globes with no hint of sexual intent, moving to the backs of his thighs. The feel of the doctor's hands in places so rarely touched wrenched a hot breath from the pit of his stomach and he unconsciously spread his legs to allow the other man better access. Instead of moving to the skin Will craved him to touch, Hannibal worked his hands down his calves and feet, lifting each to massage the sole and clean between each toe, rinsing thoroughly before he set them back on the tiles. Will's breath was coming in ragged gasps as Hannibal added more soap to his hands, wrapping his fingers along his hips, gently massaging. He could feel the question in the tight circles on his skin, and the idea that Hannibal sought to ask him instead of taking him made his heart clench. _Still so careful with me._ Will clenched his teeth and nodded, silently begging for relief when Hannibal’s hands dipped lower and grazed the underside of his cock. He let out the clenched air in a breathy moan, skin feeling too tight and sensitive, his entire body taut with desire.

Hannibal’s hands moved up into the curls surrounding the younger man’s needy prick, relishing in the coarse texture. Kissing the back of his neck, he let his lips drag along his pulse point, working his way to Will’s ear. He nipped the edge, feeling the muscles in Will’s body tense with want. Will could feel the words that rumbled into his ear as the doctor's hands slowly explored his body, resonating disbelief and care into each stroke. _God. Please. I need this. I need you._

“Your body is so pleasing to me, Will. You are are a dream come to life, everything I could want for the rest of my days. I have waited so many years to feel you like this, hoping someday, disregarding our circumstances, that I could enjoy this with you. Even those times you didn’t show up for your appointments, I’d often sit and envision what I would do to you if I ever held you within my grasp. As with everything between us, reality is so much more…” He licked Will’s ear, feeling the shudder coarse through him. “…Enticing.” The doctor’s hands slid down, slick with soap and gripped Will's length, fingers gliding slowly up and down, listening to the changes in his breathing to help adjust the pressure. Will panted as Hannibal’s other hand reached down to caress his balls, rolling the tender sack between his fingers. He hummed against the younger man’s neck, teeth grazing his shoulder as elegant fingers worked over his sensitive head. Forming a circle around him for Will to fuck, he encouraged the empath to rock his hips, chase the rhythm he so desperately needed. The lips at his neck opened, grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth before biting gently. Teeth gave way to lips, kissing an apology into the bite before finding new flesh to mark. Hannibal spoke low into Will’s ear, voice rumbling melodic and rough in the semi dark.

“How does it feel, Will? Can you feel how good you feel in my hands, working yourself for your pleasure? Take what you need from me. I will give it to you. I want to feel you fall apart for me.” Will panted at the words, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his pleasure in the tight heat of Hannibal’s fist. The hand at his balls gently tugged as Hannibal found the sensitive skin where his shoulder and neck met. He felt the hum right before the sting of the doctor’s teeth. The sensation was exactly what Will needed to fall over the edge and with a moan he came, rocking into the warmth of the doctor’s touch, pulsing between the pleasure of the older man’s hands and the sensual pain of his teeth. Hannibal worked Will’s release out of him, stroking the younger man from root to tip until Will began to shudder, too overstimulated to continue. Will wound his hand into Hannibal’s hair, too overwhelmed to speak. The electric shocks of his orgasm still rode along his skin, Hannibal’s hot breath burning at the mark where he sank his teeth. The words escaped Will’s lips before he could stop them.

“You’re… that was…”

“Perfect, Will. You are absolute perfection.” 

Hannibal crowded into his space, lowering his head to pull him into another heated kiss. Will felt boneless, still drifting on the euphoria of his orgasm. The doctor reached behind him to turn the water off, grabbed a towel off the rack and wrapped him in it. Will stood where he was, feeling sleepy and stunned, his mind unable to focus on anything except the echoes of Hannibal’s hands on his skin, perfect pressure, urging the restless rocking oh his hips. Hannibal smiled and dried himself, wrapping the towel around his waist. Walking to the sink, he attended to his teeth as Will, finally able to move, dried himself as if in a dream, movements slow and more automatic than functional. He eventually joined him at the sink, admiring the pink marks at his throat.

“Why am I not surprised that you enjoy marking your lovers?” Hannibal snorted, rinsing his toothbrush.

“Is that how you would categorize my behavior? You should be surprised then to know that you are the first that has felt the pleasure of my teeth in your skin while you rode your orgasm. Marking is not something I have done, but as with all things thus far in our adventures together, you keep surprising me. The things I would do to and for you… the list has no limits.” Hannibal removed the towel from around his waist, hanging it on the rack to dry. He pulled Will’s off from around his waist kissing him as he hung it as well. Not bothering to dress, he walked towards the bed, pulling down the covers before crawling between them.

“Come to bed, with me. I want to hold you.” Will looked dubious.

“What about my clothes?” Hannibal watched him come closer, eyes unfathomably dark in the firelight.

“Animals get comfort from being close and sharing skin. I’m feeling in need of your skin tonight. Not for pleasure, but for security. Please, indulge me this once. I want you to feel at ease and protected from your nightmares as you sleep.” Will’s heart contracted, emotion welling up in his throat. _He makes me come to relax me, marks my skin, then wants to hold me. I could get used to this._

Blowing out the candles, he made his way to the bed where Hannibal waited for him. Crawling beneath the sheets, he found himself hauled into Hannibal’s arms, head resting on the doctor’s chest. He reached up with with fingertips, searching, and brought Hannibal’s lips to his own. The gentle caress eased the last of the tension from the nightmare, and he could already feel consciousness slipping away. Content, he drifted to sleep within minutes.

Beside him, Hannibal built a new wing within his memory palace, one filled with soft candles, hot skin and the most erotic sounds he’s heard in all his years. He breathed in the scent of the man in his arms as he perused his own desires, Will having the starring role in his fantasies. When his eyes closed, the peacefulness from Will’s skin and satisfaction have absorbed into him. His hands tightened and he fell into dreams of his own. 

***

Morning had never felt so good. Will’s eyes opened to sunshine streaming through the windows to illuminate the room around him, bathing it in a warm, inviting glow. He stretched, hand automatically going to the opposite side of the bed, seeking the warmth Hannibal’s skin. The doctor’s side of the bed was empty. Momentarily disappointed, his hand fell back and Will lay where he was, mind replaying the delights of the previous night, reliving in detail the feel of the doctor’s hands on his skin, stroking his cock, feeling the release he so desperately needed. All thoughts of his nightmares were completely forgotten in the wake of the events that had transpired afterward, but he was by no means satisfied. The hunger for the other man's touch rode him, a need that had never burned within him before. He wanted Hannibal in bed with him, wanted to explore his skin, taste and touch until the other man begged him to let him come. The need of it coursed through him like an aching pulse. He could feel his own hard length pressing up into the sheets and briefly considered touching himself to bring a measure of relief. He immediately rejected the idea, needing more from the man who had slept pressed to his back, holding him securely through the night. From down the hall he could smell freshly ground coffee, his stomach betraying him as it rumbled at the thought of Hannibal’s cooking. _At least I know where to find him._ _I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep him from the kitchen for long_. Will rolled out of bed, and after looking around briefly, found the pants he planned to wear to bed folded neatly on the nightstand. Pulling them on, he didn’t bother with the boxers or t shirt. _Hopefully, I won’t need them just yet_. Leaving the room, he padded down the hall towards the tantalizing scent of breakfast.

Rounding the corner, the sight before him was almost better than the heavenly smell. Hannibal was at the stove, clad in a pair of loose fitting navy pajama bottoms and nothing else. Will admired the play in the doctor’s muscles in the sunlight, tan skin warmed to a golden hue where the light from the windows touched. Will approached, hands itching with the need to touch. Hannibal’s mind was so completely focused on the task of the timing of the omelet, the edges just beginning to crisp, he missed the sound of Will’s approach. He started when warm hands descended on his hips, fingers splaying around to his stomach, soft lips pressed to the back of his neck. The pan clattered to the stove top as Hannibal stilled, a small noise escaping his throat. Will, unhearing and unsure if touching was welcome, eased back. He felt suddenly nervous, as if the events that transpired were not to be continued in the daylight calm of the kitchen. Turning away and suddenly in need of something to do with his hands, he moved to fill the two coffee cups standing next to the French press percolating on the counter. A timer beeped and he depressed the plunger without asking, filling the cups as he went. Hannibal watched him with hungry, careful eyes as he added a splash of cream, then a single teaspoon of sugar to each. He was impressed that the details of how he took his coffee were remembered having only shared a single cup in the ex profiler’s presence before their escape. 

Turning back to the task at hand, the doctor flipped the omelet, letting the final side cook for precisely 40 seconds before turning the stove off and sliding it onto a plate. Cutting it in half, he carefully garnished it with parsley and added a small serving of potatoes and fruit to each plate, making sure each mirrored the other in their presentation. Taking the plates to the counter, he set them down in their respective places and reached for the coffee cups Will had just finished filling at the same moment reached to place them by the plates. Their hands brushed and stilled, the careful barrier of need broken with the gentle touch. Hannibal wrapped long fingers around Will’s wrist, turning him to face him. Staring into the wary eyes gazing at him with barely contained desire, he wrapped an arm around Will’s waist and pulled him closer, unrelenting until their chests brushed, their body heat mingling in the crackling air around them. Their lips met, a gentle brush of sleep soft skin. He could feel the pure need in Will’s body rise to the surface, the skin hunger dominating all other forms of nourishment. He carded a hand into soft curls and angled their mouths to deepen the kiss. The change caused the dam in Will’s control to break and a high, desperate sound to escape his throat. Hannibal pressed the advantage, licking his way into Will’s mouth, tongue mapping the inside of the younger man’s mouth, needing the taste of him. He had been waiting for him to wake, busying himself in hopes he would have himself under control when Will finally made an appearance, but it was beginning to prove futile. Desire rode the doctor’s skin, clawing down his spine like a velvet hand. His cock had never been so hard, and brushed against Will’s as he groaned around his tongue. Hannibal’s hands tightened in his hair as the kiss turned wild, savage, teeth scraping lips in heated fervor. He panted hard when careful hands palmed him through his pants, pulsing towards warm fingers. He gripped the dark curls in his hands, pulling hard enough to hear the throaty gasp that escaped at the contact. Hungry lips moved to the creamy expanse of his throat, kissing a trail of fire along the sensitive flesh.

“Hannibal-” Hannibal’s kisses traveled down, licking Will’s neck, tasting the musky flavor of his desire mingling with the salt on his skin. He ground his hips down, seeking contact. The two men moaned as their cocks brushed together, the sensation almost too much. Will panted into Hannibal’s mouth as he wrapped a leg around the taller man to pull him in, hips pushed towards him, begging for friction. Once again, the older man took advantage, lifting Will onto the counter and stepping between his legs. Pulling him to the very edge, he moved between the younger man’s legs and pushed their hips together, the pressure crackling down his spine as he heard Will moan, felt him shake.

“Will… I need you. Say yes.” Shaking, Will nodded. 

“Yes.”

“Wrap your legs around me.” Will laughed, but complied. Carefully, so as not to disturb his wounds, Hannibal picked him up around the thighs and carried him to the bedroom. Breakfast would have to wait.

***

“I have never met another soul who entices me like you do.” Hannibal was reverently stripping what little clothing Will was wearing, having deposited him on the ground to make short work of the barriers between their skin. He walked them backwards, hands in Will’s hair, and followed him down when his legs met the edge of the bed. Without preamble, the doctor climbed on top of him, bringing their bodies flush as he kissed him. Their tongues coiled together as Hannibal ran his hands along Will’s warm, soft skin, mapping his body as if he were starving and Will was sustenance. His fingers lightly brushed a nipple, circling when the younger man’s breath hitched. Will’s skin felt tight with want, and the pressure of Hannibal’s fingers ratcheted his need higher. His hands gripped the sheets as he pushed his hips upward, seeking the delicious friction they had shared in the kitchen. Hannibal’s hands stilled his movements, bracketing his hips and pinning them to the bed as he chuckled in his ear.

“I’ll give you what you need, Will. I would never deny you. I want-”

“Everything. I want everything.” Will’s voice was rough as he panted, willing Hannibal to touch him. Smiling, he obliged, stroking Will’s cock through a loose fist, allowing him to chase his pleasure but not enough to bring him to climax. Will panted, almost sobbing as a calloused thumb swiped over the swollen glans, fingers tracking the veins of his prick. Hannibal kissed his shoulder, lips moving to tease his nipple, pulling it between his teeth gently as his tongue assaulted the sensitive nub. 

“Ha-Hannibal, please.” The doctor smiled, kissing to the other side, teasing the other nipple to a stiff, needy point. He trailed fire down Will’s stomach, whispering along his skin, ghosting breath across Will’s needy cock, making his pulse jump with need.

“Anything.” Without preamble, Hannibal slid his lips over the swollen head of his cock, bringing a broken cry from Will’s lips as he found the doctor’s hair. Humming with contentment, he dipped his tongue along the depression on the underside of Will's shaft before gently sucking the mushroomed tip, swirling his tongue along his slit to collect the moisture that welled up at his ministrations. _Delicious._ When he began to bob his head, taking Will’s length into his mouth, Will wanted to cry out, but his chest was tight, throbbing with need. Hannibal spread his legs, reaching to his nightstand for a slim black bottle. Will stilled, waiting. Hoping.

“I know of your inexperience with male intimacy, but I would like to try something if you are willing. I will not take you until you are ready, but I want to touch you, let you feel the pressure there, let you feel how pleasurable it can be. I will use my mouth in time. I want to taste you while we try this.” Will closed his eyes as he silently begged his pulse to slow.

“How did you know?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow. 

“Is this the conversation you’d like to have, or can I bring you pleasure and play psychiatrist when we don’t have better things to do?” Will laughed, pulse slowing as he relaxed.

“The second one. Touch me, please. And suck my cock. I want your mouth on me again.” 

Hannibal’s grin was feral. Spreading Will’s legs wide, he took the glistening pink shaft back into his mouth, working him expertly until he relaxed. The pleasure was so focused, so intense, that Will didn’t hear the bottle open until he felt a slick, gentle finger at his entrance. His breath hitched as he anticipated the push, but Hannibal took his time, circling the puckered opening, pressing gently all while working Will’s cock in his mouth. The first press was barely there, a fingertip and nothing more. It was maddening, too much and not enough and Will wanted to howl with the intensity.

“Please, for fuck’s sake, please. I want you in me. I have to know what it feels like for you to be in me.” Hannibal hummed around his shaft, sending delicious shocks of pleasure dancing up his spine as his finger eased into Will’s tight entrance. As he was breached for the first time, Hannibal slid his cock into his softened throat, the head hitting the back and pulsing. The intrusion of the finger felt so good, so right. Panting, he felt his orgasm come roaring towards him, balls tightening with need. Hannibal pushed inside of him, working deeper as he sucked, wet sounds an obscene symphony in perfect harmony with Will’s cries of pleasure. Just as he thought he could take no more, Hannibal flexed his finger and brushed the sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside him. Will’s vision went white as he shouted his orgasm, pumping creamy fluid down into Hannibal’s throat. The pressing continued, sending shocks of sensation across his skin until he fell boneless to the bed. Hannibal gently withdrew as he eased off of his softening cock, licking his lips in obvious pleasure. He laid a single kiss above his pubic hair, kissing his way up the other man’s stomach until he reached his mouth.

The kiss they shared was incendiary, and Will hummed in pleasure at tasting himself on the other man’s lips. _How can it be that you taste so good when you taste of me?_ The kiss turned gentle as Will rolled the other man onto his back. His hand danced down the doctor’s skin, blunt nails raking white lines in their wake. Hannibal hissed, moaning when Will’s hand brushed the soft curls at the base of his cock, rock hard and leaking. Will licked his lips, fingers gently circled and stroked, exploring the texture of Hannibal’s skin. _He’s satisfyingly big_. Will wants to taste him, but unsure where to start, he continued his gentle explorations. _I wonder if all of that will hurt. I wonder if I want it to hurt._ Will shivered, somewhere between trepidation and desire.

“I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how to make it good for you.” Crimson eyes met his, pupils blown wide. Hannibal’s lips were red, swollen from their attention to his pleasure. His head fell back as Will squeezed his head, collecting the slick substance and gliding his hand along his shaft.

“You’re doing perfect, mylimasis. Just don’t- God, don’t change a thing. Keep touching me, just as you are." He rocked up into the younger man’s fist, moaning as he slid through his fingers, the silky glide sensual and pleasurable for Will to grip. Will knew he would never again see such an erotic sight as Hannibal Lecter falling apart at a few gentle strokes in his inexperienced hands.

“I want to taste you, but I don’t know what I’m doing. I want it to be as good for you as it was for me.” Hannibal pulled him close, rocking into his hands and kissing him with trembling lips.

“We have time, years for you to experience all that you want. I want you, not your experience. Right now, just touch me. Let me feel your hands around me.” Will stroked along the now slippery skin, reaching on instinct for Hannibal’s balls. He gently tugged and another pearly drop formed at his head. Swiping his fist over it to collect it, he squeezed gently and tugged at the tight sack. Hannibal’s head fell back, chest heaving. Will couldn’t believe how affected he was with so little.

“Will please. A little faster. Your pressure… it’s extraordinary. I’m so close…”

Will sped his movements, massaging Hannibal’s balls in rhythm with his strokes. The doctor’s breathing became erratic, his flesh impossibly hard in Will’s hands. With a final heave and a cry, Hannibal came, Will tugging gently at his head as he rode out his orgasm, come roping onto his stomach in thick lines. As his shaking subsided, Hannibal pulled the younger man to him, kissing him deeply. Will rested his head on the doctor’s chest, the mess between them slick and warm and _right._ He was still reeling in the effect he had on such a controlled and refined man. Hannibal’s hands came up to tangle in his hair.

“You are perfect. It’s not about what you think you can do with your touch. Knowing that it is you after wanting you for so long is enough, if what just transpired isn’t evidence enough. You have no idea how you affect me, Will. I have been infatuated with you for more years than I care to count, wishing you would open up to me to experience this kind of pleasure. Now that I have you, and you embrace all aspects of who you are… you’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner.” Will couldn’t keep the grin from his face.

“Is that how you’re going to introduce me, when we are able to leave this house? Your partner?” Hannibal smiled.

“For now it will suffice. Shall we shower? I’m famished and the good doctor is arriving within a couple of hours to examine our stitches.” Will sat up, helping Hannibal sit as well. Even though he was not looking forward to seeing Raymond Sanderson, he refused to let it get to him. Instead he kissed the man sitting next to him, and lost himself in their passion as Hannibal pulled him towards the shower.

***

“These stitches can be removed within the week without issue, Hannibal. Although, I have to say, they look a little worse for wear.” Will smirked at the obvious fish for information, finishing the cold omelet as he listened to Dr. Sanderson’s careful non-questions and Hannibal’s curt replies. They had been downstairs for 20 minutes and Will had waited in the kitchen, not wanting to interfere with the process if the stitching had to be redone.

“I don’t know how you heal the way you do. Normally I’d say you would need at least two more weeks, but you have managed to get well enough to repair on your own. Your arm please, and I’ll administer last of your antibiotics.” Hannibal’s cool voice floated up the air, laced with barely disguised contempt.

“I take excellent care of my body, and Will makes sure I exercise." Will choked on his coffee at the words, eyes stinging as he inhaled, trying to catch his breath. "You and I both know that your blend of narcotics is not an antibiotic, Raymond. Please remove your hands from my arm. Chiyoh is bringing us the last round of medication we will need.” A pause. “In pill form.” Doctor Sanderson laughed indignantly.

“If that’s what you want.” A few minutes later, both men came up the stairs, Hannibal looking handsome, controlled and professional, the loose long sleeved shirt he was wearing clinging to his chest in the most distracting manner, sleeves pushed up to display long lines of tanned forearms. When Will had pulled it from the closet and held it out to him, he ended up pressing the doctor into the inner closet door and ravaging his mouth when he saw the way the man looked in it. Relishing in the memory, he let his mind wander. _The intensity of attraction to my very own serial killer seems to know no bounds._

Doctor Sanderson in comparison looked just this side of angry as he put away the implements and pulled off the surgical gloves he was wearing. His eyes lit up when he saw Will leaning on the counter, waiting for them to conclude so he could have the stitches in his cheek examined. The comfortable blue cashmere sweater and slacks he was wearing, both chosen after much deliberation by Hannibal, accented his frame and brought out the blue in his eyes. This only served to distract Sanderson as he came close, fingers brushing along Will’s cheek. Will, quick as a snake, grabbed the man’s hand as it descended, squeezing until the bones in his wrist grated, bringing a sharp breath from the doctor.

“If you want to lose your hand, feel free to continue your ill attempts at flirtation. If you touch me in any manner that is deemed not entirely professional and necessary again, I can promise you that the result will be most… unpleasant.” Will's voice deepened with his anger, but the doctor simply smiled at him complacently, as if nothing has transpired between them. Hannibal's voice floated over his shoulder, evenly measured and almost bored. Will knew better.

"I would listen to him, Doctor. When he becomes upset in a situation, his actions can be unpredictable. It would serve you to take the warning he gives you, as a second will not be issued."

“I don't need the threats, Hannibal. I wasn't doing more than examining his face. Hold still, Will. This may sting a bit.” The pull on his cheek was more savage than needed as he was examined, but Will held still. When the doctor's exploration of the wound was completed, Will touched the edge of the damaged flesh, glad he would soon be able to grow out his facial hair to hide the scar. Hannibal pulled him close, kissing the side of his neck.

“You will always be as handsome as you always were. Your scars make you more attractive, not less. They prove that you have done two very rare things: lived your life to the fullest, and survived it.” Will laughed and pulled him into another kiss. Sanderson watched the scene with careful eyes, disallowing any emotion to be displayed, but breath hitching from the obvious intimacy between the two men. Will turned to him, a savage, triumphant grin on his face.

“Thanks for your help, doctor. If you don’t mind, we have other things to attend to. Can I walk you out?” Raymond flashed him a quick grin and picked up his bag, gesturing for Will to lead the way, took his leave of the two men. Will walked him to the front door, opened it and ushered the doctor through it. Before he could close the door, a hand snaked out and snared his arm. Caught off his guard, his body lurched and collided with Sanderson’s as he pulled Will into him.

“I know what you are, Will, and I know what Hannibal is. Is this really what you want to do with your life? Shack up with a serial killer, a man incapable of love, or any emotion beyond hunger? One day, maybe soon, maybe years from now, you’re going to need someone else in your corner. I could be here for you. You’ll come running to me when it's done. I know Hannibal won’t give you everything you need, and you'll come looking for me.” The heavy breath on his neck caused Will to shudder, but the movement was taken completely wrong by the man holding his wrist.

“Yeah, I knew you’d want it. Don’t worry. One day Hannibal will be gone and we will have all the time we need.” He let go of Will, backing away before he could react. Climbing into his car, he drove away while Will stood in the doorway, pale and shaken. It wasn’t until Hannibal came to look for him that he moved, wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s trim waist and burying his face in his chest. He was shaking, but it wasn’t from fear. Anger, indignation and disgust vied for the top spot on his list of emotions and he pulled Hannibal’s face to his, kissing him fiercely.

“Will, what transpired just now? I saw you two talking but could not hear-”

“It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters now is you need to start preparing a menu. We are going to have plenty of meat as soon as these stitches are gone. And think of something creative, Hannibal. I want to watch him suffer.” Hannibal kissed the empath hard, hands plunged into his hair. Together, they closed the door and stumbled to the bedroom.

***

They were relaxing in the main room, the sun dipping low on the horizon visible through the windows, Hannibal reading with Will’s head in his lap as he dozed while Hannibal absently ran his hands through his curls, when Chiyoh arrived. Opening the door, she stepped through, carrying several papers and barely containing the bundle of fur attached to the leash she was desperately trying to hold onto. At the metallic sound of dog tags, Will sat upright. Chiyoh gave up hope and dropped the leash as the dog on the other end bounded into Will, almost knocking him over in his excitement to see his master.

“Winston! Hey Winston, how are you doing?” The dog jumped enthusiastically, tail thumping into Hannibal’s arm as he tried and failed to lick his owner’s face. Will knelt down and scrubbed into his fur, calming him, happiness and disbelief plain on his face. Glancing at Chiyoh, he asked the only question he could muster.

“How?” She smiled then, and it was one of the most beautiful things Will had ever seen. Stepping closer, she knelt close to where Winston was trying to climb into Will's lap.

“It was not my idea, but once set to the task, it was easy enough to lure him away from your old residence. He has a particular fondness for rabbit.” She scratched the dog’s ears. “Something we both share.” Taking the dog’s leash off, Will calmed him until he lay on the floor at the edge of the couch, tail thumping happily. Hannibal set his book down as Will reached for him, kissing him soundly, whispering against his lips.

“Thank you, Hannibal. You seem to think of everything, and I couldn't have asked for a better gift. You have no idea how much this means to me.” Hannibal smiled, returning his kiss softly. Turning, he realize Chiyoh was watching them, the look on her face the perfect mixture of happiness and irritation. She sat back on her heels, standing with the perfect grace her training allowed her.

“I’m happy my room is on the upper floor. Don’t worry, Will. While I reside, your dog can sleep with me.” She patted the top of the dog's head once more. “That way he doesn't interrupt the carnal needs I’m sure you two are discovering.” Will blushed so deeply he became lightheaded. Hannibal shook his head, mouth set in a disapproving line, but took Will's hand in his own.

“Do not be rude Chiyoh. Instead of voicing ridiculous theories regarding our intimacy, tell us about the rest of your trip. What news do you bring us about the FBI and their search?” She smiled enigmatically, tossing her shiny black hair over one shoulder.

“There will be no search, Doctor Lecter. While they were unable to recover bodies, evidence has been discovered along the shoreline where it was likely you hit the rocks. A positive identification was made for both you and your Will. They won’t be looking for you here or anywhere else.” Hannibal smiled at her as Will looked on, confused.

“What do you mean, evidence?” Chiyoh looked at him, cocking her head to the side.

“I planted irrefutable DNA to lead to the conclusion you were dashed against the rocks and you died there. The authorities think you were eaten, which is why they found skin, blood and hair but no bodies.” Will shuddered, but nodded.

“Thank you for saving us again. I’m going to have to get you something nice. A fruit basket. Or maybe a new gun.” Chiyoh laughed and stood.

“I need no presents from you, but I am starving. I am going to retrieve my things, and once I unpack, I want one of you to make me dinner. I am too tired from the drive to make anything worth eating.” She walked from the room and out the front door as Hannibal stood. Will watched him with hooded eyes, enjoying the play of the man’s muscles under the shirt he wore. He had never wanted someone the way he seemed to crave Hannibal, with such intensity and frequency that it took his breath away. A look shared set his blood afire, and it was all he could do to keep his hands from him as he walked to the kitchen to begin preparations for a meal for Chiyoh, a simple meal of dried meats, fruit and cheese. To distract himself, he found a set of plastic bowls for Winston and went to the refrigerator to find some leftover meat, taking the water bowl to fill it. The canine happily ate his food, returning to the rug by the couch when he finished. Chiyoh returned with her arms full and Will helped her carry her belongings to her room. Looking around, he was surprised to find her space almost Spartan, little in the way of decor, although comfortable. The room radiated her calm strength and Will realized how happy he was to see her again. As he turned to leave, she stopped him, gentle hand on his arm.

“You look better than I have ever seen you, Will. I am happy to find you so. I am not sure if Hannibal has had time to talk with you, but I feel the need to express a few things to you. I have regrets of how I have treated you in the past. I know the shot to your shoulder damaged a good portion of your mobility, not to mention your unfortunate tumble from the train. I hope you can find it in you to forgive my actions.” Her face was so open and sincere, he couldn't help but smile. He nodded placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Bygones, Chiyoh. It’s been the theme of the past few days. I can’t fault you for your actions that brought us to this point. I understand your need to protect him, and I can’t blame you for carrying out your actions when you thought it was best.” Chiyoh smiled, looping her arm through his. 

“With that in mind, let’s see what the doctor has managed to put together for me to eat. I’m famished.”

***

As Will’s back hit the cold tiles of the shower, his breathy moans becoming tight as Hannibal worked his cock with his mouth and two fingers deep into his tight heat, rubbing into his prostate while he cried out and gripped the doctor’s hair, as Will tasted Hannibal’s clean, sweet taste on his tongue as he came, moaning Will’s name in his fervor, as the two men collapsed to the bed, naked and sated, craving bodily contact more than breath, as Hannibal kissed Will and whispered to him in his native tongue while he slept, the darkest part of the night crept in. Chiyoh watched from her window, waiting to see what the moving shadow would do, gun unpacked and at her ready hand. It disappeared before she could track it’s movements and assess it's threat level. She continued her vigilant watch long into the early morning hours, a feeling of unease riding her spine, eyes searching through the blackness. She caught no more movement and eventually slept. 

The present left on the doorstep of the two sleeping men and their guard would have to wait to be discovered until the morning. Horror is best experienced in the light of day, where there is nowhere to hide from it. The shadow moved away, almost wishing to be present when the gift was discovered, as it wanted to experience the reaction to it. Now was not the time, though. They would know fear, be driven apart by it. Then and only then, the shadow would be revealed and move through the light to bring them into the all encompassing dark. For now, patience. The time would come, and it was sooner than they would ever guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of Lithuanian within the story:
> 
> "Klausyk mano balso, Will. Grizk pas mane, mylimasis"- "Listen to my voice, Will. Come back to me, my beloved."  
> “Tu esi mano. Tai svajone. Grizk pas mane, Will. Grizk pas mane, mylimasis.” You are mine. This is a dream. Come back to me, Will. Come back to me, my beloved."


	6. Tried and Tested

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of the wonderful people leaving comments and following this story, thank you. Your enthusiasm is the best motivation I could ask for.

“...It was in that moment I realized that when she grew up, she was bound to be trouble for everyone around her. With her radiant smile and those dimples, she could wrap anyone around her fingers. It was the primary reason behind my escaping consequences when I smuggled the eggplant into her room.”

Will grinned, the stories of Mischa winding through his mind as he pictured a child Hannibal, carrying his sister and her copper basin in from the warmth of the day and stealing an eggplant from the garden to place by her crib. The story endeared him to the girl he never met, with crystal blue eyes to stare with wonder into the crimson stained gold gaze of her brother, likely with as much adoration as he himself did. He leaned back into Hannibal’s chest and stretched, careful not to disturb their repast. _I can’t imagine ever wanting to leave this bed again. How can being lazy feel this good?_

Hannibal’s laugh rumbled through his back as he held the fork to Will’s lips, the fruit he had speared glistening in the early morning sunlight. “ I think you would have liked Mischa. She and you have much the same adventurous spirit that always seems to land you in more trouble than most find themselves. Thankfully, you also have her charms when you want to.” Will’s teeth sank into the berry’s tender flesh and he groaned in appreciation as the tart taste burst along his tongue. Unable to resist the sound, Hannibal tipped the younger man’s head back, catching his smile in a searing kiss. Will couldn’t remember a time in his existence that he had been so deliriously happy, content as a cat with cream. 

“I like to charm you. Everyone else, I only do it if I have to. It’s your turn, Doctor. Ask me anything. Make it good, though.”

Hannibal smiled distractedly, lost in thought as he contemplated what to ask the younger man next. That morning as they were preparing breakfast, Will had decided that they should play 20 questions, a game that allowed them to ask anything of the other with the idea that the answer had to be as truthful as possible, nothing held back, even if it was painful. He considered the question he had wanted to ask in the kitchen, but pushed it aside for the time being. _No need to bring such a heavy topic to a lighthearted game._

“Come on, Hannibal. Quit stalling. What do you want to know?” Hannibal grinned, the question popping into his mind. 

“Describe for me your perfect day. Start to finish. What would you do, and with whom would you spend your time?” The question was calculated, but not completely transparent. Hannibal could only hope that his name would be highlighted at some point along the way, solitary creature as Will could be. The man in question’s eyes became contemplative. He sipped his coffee, snaring a piece of toast to offer behind his shoulder. The doctor took a neat bite, and Will brought the bread to his own lips to sample. _We need to keep that marmalade in the refrigerator always. Nothing has ever tasted so good on toast._

“Well, I think today has a pretty good start to being the perfect day. Starting with lounging in bed with someone I love, eating and talking about things that are more interesting than the typical, mundane conversations people who know me superficially like to talk about. If it was up to me, I would go fishing in a river somewhere. I’d like to be able to fly fish again when there is a place for it. Casting a long line is an art form of which it’s easy to fall out of practice.” His eyes slipped closed at he envisioned the peaceful place to which his mind returned when he was stressed. Hip deep in the current, he cast and held until there was a bite. The vision opened and Hannibal was there at his side, looking effortlessly handsome and stylish in hip waders, more attractive than any man had a right to be. The vision felt off from how he usually saw it, until he realized with a start that Hannibal had taken Abigail's place beside him. He opened his eyes and turned to look at the man behind him, whose gaze burned into his own with concern.

“Will, are you all right? Where did you go just now?” Will’s throat tightened, emotion and relief welling up in equal measures as he realized what the change had to mean.

“I’m… perfect. Absolutely perfect. I realized just now that I truly and absolutely love you. That’s all.” Hannibal’s eyes softened as he gathered Will closer in his arms.

“And what made you come to such a profound conclusion?” Will smiled, leaning into the older man’s chest, sighing contentedly.

“You replaced Abigail in my vision. It was you standing beside me, looking better in fishing gear than anybody I’ve ever seen. It’s really not fair. Nobody should look elegant in hip waders.” Hannibal laughed, running a hand through Will’s curls to kiss his forehead, lips lingering for a moment.

“You have yet to see the real thing though. There is always the possibility that your dream is far better than the thought actualized.” Will grinned, reaching for his coffee.

“I wouldn’t count on it. I’ve seen you in countless situations, and you never fail to take my breath away.” He could feel Hannibal’s pleasure like a physical touch. He radiated his happiness as his hands drifted down Will’s skin, massaging.

“Tell me of the first time we spoke, Will. Not of the context of the room, or even the conversation we had, although I distinctly remember you telling me you didn’t find me interesting. Tell me what you thought of me when we parted ways.” Hannibal’s lips broke out into a grin as Will took a halfhearted swing at him.

“First of all, it’s my turn to ask a question, not yours. Also, that was our second conversation, and you had just showed up and demanded entrance while I stood, staring at you in my boxers and sweat stained t shirt. You fed me some of the best food I’ve ever eaten, demanded my attention and invaded my personal space. I wanted to ask you to leave me alone in my bubble, but I wanted to ask you to bed. You caught my attention because you ignored my callousness and obvious desire to be left alone, feeding me, touching me… you know, you’ve always touched me a lot. Was that on purpose, or could you just not help yourself?"

Hannibal laughed and fed him another morsel from their shared plate. “You have always looked so incredible even at your most vulnerable, Will. I wanted you, even then. The touching was, for the most part, deliberate; an experiment to see what you would do, especially knowing your proclivities towards isolation. In reality, I wanted to bend you over that table in your dining room and release my need for your attention in your body. It probably would have saved me a lot of trouble.” Will laughed, taking another sip of coffee.

“Whatever you say, Doctor. I know better. There is no way, by any means that we would have ended up anywhere but where we are now. Are you done eating?” Hannibal’s eyes darkened as he chewed the last of his toast slowly swallowing as Will’s eyes darkened, pupils swollen and gleaming.

“I find I am no longer hungry for food. What did you have in mind?” Will smiled as he set the tray on the ground, wrapping the comforter around them as he lowered his body to the older man’s. _I’m never wearing pajamas to bed again._ He kissed the man beneath him, hands stroking up his neck and into his hair as he brought their bodies together, feeling the already rising interest in Hannibal’s half hard erection as he licked his way into the doctor’s mouth, swallowing the deep, contented moan he issued. They found a rhythm beneath the covers, bodies sliding together is Hannibal gathered their hard cocks into a warm hand, stroking them in unison as Will reached for the lube. Pouring enough to slick him into his hand, he wrapped his fingers around the doctor’s already moving hands, their mouths finding an accompaniment to the stroking of their fingers, mirroring the movement with thrusting and searching tongues. Will’s pulse ratcheted up into his throat as Hannibal found the divot beneath the head of his prick, raking a blunt thumbnail across the sensitive flesh.

“Christ Hannibal-”

“Christ cannot save you from what I want from you, Will. It’s just me. Feel our bodies together. Feel our hands. Rock for me. Chase your pleasure. I want to feel you spill over our hands.” Will fell into the hypnotic cadence Hannibal’s deep voice provided as he rocked, fucking their conjoined hands as he felt the other man do the same. Their pleasure tightened, peaking in a single, shining moment as their lips met, their orgasms seconds apart. Will felt it burn along his skin, clear and intense pleasure, the waves riding him as he came. As they lay together in the afterglow, Will’s heart suddenly constricted, catching his breath in his throat.

 _Someday, we will share a last name. Wouldn’t Freddie Lounds just shit if she knew her stupid “Murder Husbands” moniker hit the mark_. Hannibal caught the gleam in his eye, and kissed him fiercely.

“About what are you thinking so intensely and with such humor?” Will smiled.

“Nothing really. I’m just so happy we are here. I can’t believe how good we are together.” Hannibal’s hands pulled him closer, fingers caressing the curls at the base of his neck.

“Is there anything you would change between us?” Will smiled, relaxing into the feel of the doctor’s hands in his hair.

“Not a thing, other than a hot shower in the next 15 minutes. But we have time, and I’m comfortable.” Hannibal drew him into his arms, and before they knew it, sleep overtook them. They had all the time they needed.

***

When they finally emerged from the bedroom, it was early afternoon and the sky overhead had turned a brilliant blue. Will planned to take Winston for a walk so Hannibal would have some time to cook, the doctor itching for the chance to create something delectable and refined for the younger man after his careful preparations when he himself was too weak to feed them. As they came into the main living space, laughing and touching, Chiyoh, sitting at the kitchen counter, the last of their coffee cooling untouched in her cup, cleared her throat. Will smiled as he passed, taking the plate to the sink. 

“Hey Chiyoh. Do you want me to make you something fresher? That’s got to be from this morning.” She didn’t answer right away, spinning the cup in her restless hands and not meeting their gazes. Upon further inspection, Will noticed the tightness around her eyes, teeth worrying her lip. He reached across the counter and touched her hand, bringing her back to herself.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Chiyoh sighed, trying to hide her unease.

“I know you two are excited to establish your relationship, but I have been waiting for hours. I have something to show you.” Without preamble, she stood and strode out the front door without looking back. Hannibal and Will exchanged a glance, but followed her out onto the front porch. She stood motionless, waiting for the men to join her. When they were by her side, she stepped away, closing the door they had just exited. Turning to follow her gaze, both men stilled. Pinned to the door with a large knife, was what appeared to be a fresh heart. The flesh gleamed redder and more grotesque than it should have, the color made more horrifyingly visceral in the daylight. Will instinctively reached out a hand to examine it but Hannibal stopped him, pulling his fingers back. His voice came out laced with cultured disinterest, slipping into the cultivated veneer of his person suit, the mask he wore when he was hiding from the events transpiring around him. Will, knowing what he did of the doctor from the past few days, understood the suit was as much a coping mechanism as a disguise, a shell that allowed him to think without the necessity of feeling. That would come later, when they could be alone.

“Don’t touch anything, Will. We need to get gloves and we can take it down to the lab to examine it without the possibility of contamination. Before we do anything, Chiyoh, have you been on the grounds?” Chiyoh nodded, eyes distant.

“There was not much to see. The intruder approached by foot, the prints light and difficult to discern. The pattern was exact though, familiar. This is someone who has been on the grounds and knew the most efficient way to navigate the land. He also knew that there are no security cameras, and also seemed to be sure that someone would be watching.” Will looked surprised by the detail of her statement.

“How are you able to tell that this person knew the land, and who would have been watching?” Chiyoh gave him a withering look. 

“Think to where I came from and what I was doing before I came here. I keep watch at night, Will. I know you and I are becoming, for lack of a better word, friends, but it does not mean that I will not protect you and Doctor Lecter. If nothing else it makes me more protective, especially when I do not know this land as well as my own. Your people have different motivations than the animals I am used to hunting. I don’t know who you are looking for. I don’t like that I don’t know. I’m unable to anticipate an attacker of whom I know nothing.” Hannibal clasped the woman’s shoulder reassuringly. 

“Don’t fret just yet. We will give Will the ground and let him tell us what he can about the person who did this.” Will stilled, gut clenching. Hannibal couldn’t possibly expect him to read the crime scene, could he?

“What? No. I don’t want to do that. I want to take the heart off the door, look for prints. We can find more forensically-”

“Will, you know that your empathetic gift is what’s going to give us the edge to get ahead of what is happening here. You just need to-” Will balled his hands into fists, turning away from the two figures next to him and staring into the road that served as their driveway, mind racing.

“NO. I don’t need to do anything. I gave all that shit up when I jumped from the cliffs, Hannibal. I am not going to risk my sanity to see a few glimpses of the sick fuck who is doing this.” Hannibal made an irritated noise at the back of his throat and stepped into the former profiler’s field of vision.

“The only way we are going to be able to plan our next steps is if you help. How are you so unwilling to assist when you were able to glean so much of Sanderson’s motives by meeting the man once?” Will’s jaw clenched as he turned away, staring out without seeing.

“That’s not the same thing and you know it. I can’t shut down what I see when it’s something like this. I can’t go back to doing it consciously. I just can’t.” His chest heaved with panic, voice tight. “Take the damn thing off the door and let’s get it into the lab. We can try pulling some fingerprints off of it, debris. Anything but that.” Hannibal’s hand descended onto his shoulder, turning him to face the older man. Will refused to meet his gaze. Hannibal’s voice was tight with irritation as he spoke.

“I’m not moving it until you try to see, Will. Does this look like a random act of violence to you? It is not. It is deliberate, brutal. That heart is human, I know you saw that much. Do you want one of us to be hurt next because of your stubbornness?” Will’s eyes widened in surprise.

“What? No. I’m just not risking my sanity for something we can find out through a lab.” Hannibal pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself back into calm.

“We won’t see what you do. Please, Will. I want to keep us safe.” _Why did he have to put it like that? How can I back out knowing that if one of us is hurt, it will be my fault?_ Will gritted his teeth, anger and resentment rising up as he turned back to the door.

“Fine. Get the fuck off the porch and let me work.” Hannibal squeezed his shoulder and nodded, he and Chiyoh retreating to the lawn, but Will shooed them away. “No, you have to be gone, completely gone or I can’t concentrate. Go do your own investigating and I’ll tell you what I find.” 

“Fine. Let me get you gloves first. Don’t touch anything until I return.” Hannibal turned and walked into the house. Chiyoh reached out, fingers brushing Will’s wrist. Her voice was soft, full of empathy in the face of his anger and fear.

“He means well. He’s just-” 

“I know exactly what he is. He knows what this is going to do to me, but he’s a heartless bastard that just wants to use me to get what he wants. He’s no better than Jack.” Chiyoh stiffened.

“You know that’s not a fair assessment, Will. Hannibal has never used you like that, and he wouldn’t now if there was another way.” Will laughed bitterly and turned away.

“That’s the thing. There’s always another way. Just ask Jack Crawford”

***

Hannibal handed Will a pair of gloves before walking away in the direction of the front yard without uttering a word. Chiyoh, having already disappeared to scout the road, told him in no uncertain words what she thought of him and his assessment of Hannibal’s motives. Telling him to call out when he was done, she disappeared into the forest to the East of where he stood. He watched her go until she disappeared into the brush before turning back to the door. Will put the gloves on, heart tightening in trepidation at the familiar sensation. He looked first along the porch, noting a few small, round blood drops on the ground. Bending down to examine them, he was able to discern the direction the intruder had traversed to place the heart. When he was no longer able to stall, Will walked back to the door where the heart hung, unbearably bright in the sunlight and smelling faintly of freshly shorn copper and meat. Taking shallow breaths, he stared, letting the pendulum swing.

_I knew the person I took this heart from, or they were at least familiar to me. This is a fresh cut, within the last 6-10 hours at the oldest, so I did it right before I brought it here to the door. I cut with precision, so I have some medical experience, but not the skills of a surgeon. I was careful but imprecise, trying to make it as perfect as an offering as possible. This heart, so carefully removed… I carried it. Not in my hands, or I fear I would have dropped it. But in a container of some kind. Will looked around and spotted a series of larger droplets, indicating a lid had been removed in that spot. He followed the blood trail back to the heart. Tearing his eyes away from the organ, he studied the implement holding it to the door. This knife, it means something to me. Maybe it’s supposed to tell them something, or maybe it’s for me. I chose it purposely for this display. I positioned the heart where it would be easiest to see and pushed the knife into the door. I wanted it to be noticed right away. I chose the heart because I feel something for these men, I am jealous or I want one or both of them. I’m a doctor, and this is my first display of a kill, although not my first kill. I want to be seen by these men, and I want them to know its me. This heart holds some special significance to me and to them. I will need to send them more pieces of the same body for them to understand They’ll have to wait for my glorious puzzle to come together. For them to see, feel the pain and fear I’m inflicting. This is my design._

The pounding in his head worsened. Will turned away from the porch, gasping big gulps of air, trying to breathe down his panic. His headache was becoming unbearable, vision going white. As he stumbled off the porch, Gentle hands caught him.

“Will, speak to me. Are you well? What did you see?” Chiyoh helped him around to the chairs at the side of the house. Hannibal sat waiting, not speaking until Will sat next to him, head hanging and sweat dripping into his eyes. When he opened his mouth, the cultured voice was completely drained of emotion, clinical and precise. Will hated it.

“Tell me what you saw.” Not even thinking of refusing the older man, Will started to speak.

“He’s in the medical profession but not a surgeon. The cuts were precise but not surgical. He’s been thinking about this display for a long time, and had it prepared prior to arriving. He knew where Chiyoh’s room is located so he was able to avoid detection. He’s cased the place or been here recently. This was very carefully orchestrated. He’s obsessed with one or both of us, and wanted to give us his heart in hopes his affections will be returned. This won’t be his last gift. He’s hoping to paint a picture of devotion, and if he can’t have what he wants, he will cause us pain and fear before he takes it.”

Hannibal said nothing, absorbing the new information. He had walked down the road and found the dips in the earth where a car had idled for some time. One person sprang to mind, but he was reluctant to voice it. Next to him, he listened to Will’s breath tighten, the air coming in ragged gasps. Before he could reach for him, Will stood up, a wild look in his eyes.

“I can’t do this. Damn you Hannibal, I can’t do this shit again. I don’t want to be surrounded with cases and psychopaths and death. I want something resembling normalcy right now, or I am going to go insane.”

“And running away with a psychopath with a proclivity for eating people, what did you think would happen? Did you think that I would suddenly be a softer creature, someone who would give up who he is to create the illusion of domestic bliss? This is the life you wrought with your jump and the sooner you accept it, the easier this will be for both of us.”

“I ran away from doing cases because they drove me insane. I don’t care that this guy is after us. I can’t be sucked into this again.”

“Then maybe it’s best if you find another path for your life. I am not a creature of just life, Will. I revel in death, the death that I bring swiftly and without mercy as I will to the perpetrator of the display on my door. If you cannot accept all aspects of what our life will be if we forge it together, it would be best if you decided that before we do something really stupid, like fall in love.” Will’s voice caught in his throat as he looked pleadingly at the man in front of him.

“Do you think this is a mistake?” Hannibal sighed and turned away.

“We have yet to do anything to help us identify the person who did this and you are falling apart. How can I trust you when you can’t trust yourself or your gifts?” Will lowered his head, tears shining, unshed in his eyes as he considered the other man’s words.

“I don’t know, Hannibal. But I know that this… I can’t. My head hurts already and we’ve barely gotten started.” He stood and stumbled towards the house, not looking back to see the stricken look on the doctor’s face as he walked away.

***

He couldn’t go back inside the house, knowing that just that morning he had been happier than he ever thought possible. Every space would haunt him as much as Abigail’s room did. Instead, after wandering aimlessly through the woods for a time, Will found himself by the lake, intent on talking with Abigail, asking for her advice to navigate the tricky waters he was suddenly thrust into. He knew that he would have to be stronger than this, work through the necessary hurdles including his own shortcomings in order to make their relationship work. He did not expect Hannibal’s harsh demeanor at the first difficulty. The burn of shame settled in his chest, a cold fire raking at his insides. He wandered slowly down the dock, stopping when he saw the familiar figure sitting on the pier.

Without a word, Chiyoh handed him the fishing rod in her hands and picked up another, casting into the water with practiced ease. They sat without speaking for long minutes as Will’s head spun and the rod in his hands tugged. Reeling in the fish out of the lake, he held it up for her inspection. 

“A nice bass, but a bit small. The chest is behind you if you want to keep it.” Will unhooked the fish and added it to the two others already wiggling inside. 

“We can cook them for lunch tomorrow. We just have to warn Hannibal so he doesn’t pre-plan the meal like he always does.” Will’s breathing hitched at the other man’s name. Chiyoh watched him as she recast her line, the lure dancing across the water before settling on its surface. She waited quietly, seeming to know that Will would speak when he was ready. When he didn’t, she sighed and took his fishing rod to re-bait and recast it. He held it absently in his hands when she was done, looking lost, starting when she broke the silence.

“Hannibal spoke often of you in his letters to me. He is not a man prone to sentiment, but the prose he wrote of you was inspiring, heart warming. With all of his dalliances with death since he was a child, I never thought he would find someone living who would so easily and completely consume his every thought and action. Of course, his descriptions of you were clinical, dry and precise information passed to me about your disease and incarceration. I knew, though. I could feel the fascination of you that was laced between the sterile words he sent to me. Every letter contained some tidbit, and when I met you in Lithuania, I felt I already knew you as an old friend.” She looked sideways at Will’s closed face and sighed.

“He has never been an easy person to protect. He’s calculating and intelligent, knows how to keep his urges from being detected for many years, but when you came along, you gave him a blind spot. He holds in high regard everything he cares about, and shuts down when that thing is threatened.” She touched Will’s arm, holding until he faced her.

“He loves you, Will. More than he has loved another being in his life. More than Mischa. What happened today frightens him, makes him mistrust everything around him. He will never be able to express such things as fear, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel the emotions, and deeply. He will fight with you, because in his heart, he knows you will forgive him his transgressions in the wake of what is happening. You are the most important thing that has happened in all of his years, and he wants to know that you will be able to stand beside him when incidents happen. Can you really pull the trigger, carve into people if you can’t rein in your mind to use it to your advantage? He questions and assesses, but in his heart he knows that you two belong to one another.”

“Why did he have to push so hard? I would have done it, but I needed him there with me.” Chiyoh smiled releasing his arm to reel in her jumping line.

“He is used to your self reliance and does not wish to take that from you. It is the one thing that makes you different from every person he’s taken an interest in before now. You take care of your own. If you need him, show him. Open to him so he can give you what you need. He wants that more than he is willing to admit, but doesn’t know how to communicate those emotions to you for fear you will reject him again. Please, temper your reactions with patience. Let him understand what you need. And give him what he needs as well.”

“What does he need, though, other than destroying my mind?” The woman next to him fixed him with a measured look as she removed the hook from the decidedly larger fish she had caught. He tried not to squirm under her gaze.

“You are stronger than that. You know your limits and how to work within them. Let him bring you back to yourself when you get lost, and together you can defeat anything.” Checking the now full basket, she removed the hook from her pole, took his and reeled it in. Standing, she turned to Will and smiled. “Would you like to walk back with me, or shall I give you some time out here on the waters?” Will turned from her, looking out over the calm lake, taking a deep breath, holding it in before releasing it slowly. _Just like Hannibal taught me to do._

“I’ll stay if you don’t mind. There’s someone I need to talk to before I return.” Chiyoh nodded in understanding, leaving him on the dock to talk with Abigail. Hours late, mind numb, his hunger for both food and Hannibal’s company called him home.

***

Hannibal was down in the lab when he returned, but something that smelled of herbs and an earthiness Will could not identify was cooking away in the kitchen. His stomach tightened with hunger, mouth watering at the delicious scent of well prepared food. The doctor appeared at the head of the stairs, wiping his hands as Will pulls off his boots, putting them next to the door. They stare at one another for a measure, tension crackling in the air. Both begin to speak at once.

“Hannibal I-”

“Will…”

Hannibal smiled and held up a hand.

“I just wanted you to know that dinner will be ready in a half hour, if you want to clean up. We can talk when our meal is concluded.” He turned before Will could say a word and disappeared back downstairs. Unsure of what else to do, Will wandered into the bedroom to change. He felt numb and emotionally drained, wanting Hannibal’s calm demeanor and reassuring touch more than he wanted to breathe. I have to be strong and get through this with him. _I can’t expect him to be the only one holding us up. That’s not the way our dynamic should be._

He washed his face, running his fingers in his curls before leaving the bedroom to meet the others in the living room to eat. Hannibal was dressed as impeccably as always, the soft shirt he had worn the day before now adorning his body, a pair of comfortable slacks dark in contrast. Will swallowed, staring at the delectable feast laid out before them. The food is delicious, but Will couldn’t tell what he ate as it all seemed to stick to his throat like paste. They consumed their meal in absolute silence, and Chiyoh quickly took her leave at its conclusion, retreating to her room and leaving the two men at the table, carefully avoiding the other’s gaze. Unable to take more, Will reached for Hannibal’s hand, his heart clenching when the other man jumped at the contact.

“Hannibal, I’m sorry. I didn’t understand until later how important being strong in the face of what we will surely become is to you. I am still trying to figure out who I am, and I don’t do well when I’m pushed.” Hannibal’s smile was tight, but he laced his fingers through the other man’s squeezing gently.

“I am disconcerted that we have been targeted so early into our recovery. While I have many ideas, I need you to help complete the picture. I have discovered some inconsistencies in the lab. Would you care to join me so I can show you?” Will nodded and they made their way down to the basement. Hannibal gestured to the microscope, indicating that Will should take a look. Will sat down and made some adjustments to the slide, focusing in on the specimen. 

“Tell me what I’m looking at.” Hannibal leaned over him, breath whispering across his skin. Will shivered and willed himself to concentrate.

“These marks are contusions made from various cuts to the heart tissue. I theorize that whoever did this tried more than one implement for the removal. Do you see the discoloration here? This person was still alive when the initial cuts were made.” Will started, a memory breathing through his mind. An unsettling conversation, the discomfort when the man was in the room, the specific organ chosen… it all fit, didn’t it?

“We may need to speak to your Doctor Sanderson, and sooner rather than later. His pathology and creepy fascination plays very well into what has happened to this victim. With any luck, if we can find him, we can put an end to this before it really begins.” Hannibal nodded his agreement, turning the stool around and reaching for Will.

“I believe it of him as well. We will ask him to make a house call tomorrow, where we can ask the questions we need to ask. If he is wise, he will answer truthfully and we can be done with this mess.” The doctor massaged the younger man’s shoulders, voice weary as he spoke. 

“Are you awake enough to stay up? I’m finding myself worn after today and would like very much for you to come to bed with me.” Will smiled gently and reached for the doctor, winding his arms around his waist and pressing his face into his stomach. He could feel the muscles jump, tight with need. Standing, he leaned forward and kissed Hannibal’s lips gently.

“Want help cleaning the kitchen?” Hannibal shook his head.

“Just this once, leave the mess. I shall take care of it in the morning. Let’s retire for the evening.”

***

Will’s back hit the bed, mouth laving at the skin below Hannibal’s jawline as the man in question all but ripped the shirt from his skin. Together they wrenched clothing up and off, moaning as their bodies made contact. Arching up into his hands, Will’s body tightened with heat as Hannibal cupped his groin, rubbing with perfect, controlled pressure. Pulling the other man to him, he laced fingers into the doctor’s hair, moaning as their cocks rubbed together with delicious heat. 

Bringing his mouth to the doctor’s ear, he licked the shell before whispering to him. “Hannibal, I want you inside me. Please. I need you to take me. Make me feel alive after all this death. I need to feel you.” Hannibal’s eyes shone in the dark, face raw with hunger. Leaning down to kiss the younger man, he reached into the bedside table for the lube. Slicking his fingers, he licked into Will’s mouth as he pressed into his tight, hot hole, sinking to the first knuckle in the first push. Will breathed a moan, opening to the feeling of the intrusion, willing his body to relax. When the tightness around his eyes eased, he nodded and Hannibal began to move. 

Immediately, Will’s body began to tighten with the sensation, the initial burn giving way to exquisite pressure and pleasure skittering down his spine as the doctor pressed up into his prostate, barely ghosting over it as he worked him open. Shuddering, sweat covering his body, he heard himself begging for a second, then a third finger until it hurt more to not have Hannibal’s cock than the burn ever did. 

“Hannibal. Please. I need you.” The fingers inside of him stilled, working the oil as they scissored, opening him more. 

“Are you sure you are ready? I can…” Will almost sobbed.

“I need you now. Please. I want-” Hannibal slowly removed his fingers, body shaking as he lined up, his cock flushed and hard as iron.

“Breathe in for me, my love. It may hurt.” Will braced, and Hannibal pushed, breaching his tight opening with a moan. _Holy fuck. God, he’s so big._ It stung, but the burn quickly dissipated, and as it did, Will urged him to move with a nudge of his hips. Hannibal eased into his body, pushing until his hips were snug against Will’s ass. He kissed the younger man’s throat, cheeks, lips, whispering gentle praise.

“You are doing so well for me, Will. God you feel so good, hot and tight around me. I have wanted you so much. I need you, your skin, your closeness. Your love.” Will’s body slowly eased as he listened to Hannibal’s murmured words and he began to breathe, nodding to Hannibal to indicate he was ready.

“Move. God, please move.” Hannibal slowly withdrew, then pushed back into his body. _Fuck._ The drag of the doctor’s hard cock inside his body was so good he wanted to pass out. The perfect taper of his glans rubbed exquisitely against Will’s prostate, making him shake within minutes. Still, Hannibal set a gentle tempo, working him slowly into a frenzy as he fucked him open, taking as much as he could give. Will’s cries ratcheted into his throat, high and tight as the doctor pounded into him. He could feel the man above him beginning to fall apart, and rocked his hips down to meet his thrusts. Hannibal’s hand found his needy cock and within minutes, his orgasm roared down into his system, ripping cry after cry from his throat as he spurted against their stomachs. Exhausted, he wrapped his legs around Hannibal’s waist, dragging him down into a searing kiss.

“Fuck me, Hannibal. Please. I want to feel you come inside me. I need you. Please.” The last please drove the doctor over the edge, and he buried his face in his lover’s throat as he emptied himself inside of him. They both lay in the aftermath, exhausted and unwilling to separate. Eventually, Hannibal’s softened cock slipped out of Will, the intense pressure easing as he stood. He padded to the bathroom to get a rag to clean them up. Will winced as he cleaned him, a small moan echoing from his throat.

Tossing the rag into the bathroom, Hannibal crawled into bed, pulling Will to him, wrapping them in a cocoon of heat and the animal smell of sex. Without a word, they drifted off and didn’t move throughout the night, the horrors of the day washed away in the clean relief of their lovemaking.

***

Chiyoh sat vigilant, unsure how long it would take for the next hit but wanting to take no chances. Her well trained eyes stared out into the dark, but for all her troubles, she did not look where she needed to and missed the next delivery. Walking outside and onto the porch, her breath caught in her throat and her stomach heaved at the display left for them to witness.

They woke to Chiyoh’s cries from the porch. Pulling on what clothes were available, they rushed outside to find her pointing, ashen and shaking, at a pair of hands pressed together in begging supplication nailed to the door where the heart stood the previous day. Hannibal peered closer and reeled back, stepping away quickly to catch his breath. He pulled Will to him, hoping to shield his eyes from what he saw but knew from the moan he released that he had not been quick enough. Both men heaved, as they recognized the beautifully manicured hands as belonging to none other than Alana Bloom. Her wedding rings gleamed in the soft light, winking like a beacon, warning them all that someone was coming for them. Someone knew they were alive, and knew where to find them. This pocket of the world was not as safe as they once had thought and the circle their hunter had cast was growing ever tighter around them.

In the sunlight, Alana’s hands spun in a lazy circle, their posed and presented grip a horrifying mockery of her last moments before they were taken. They hung, waiting to be examined, a testament to the pain this killer was willing to inflict to get their attention. Will pressed his face into Hannibal’s chest, breath hitching, tears hot and heavy as they burned down his cheeks. He pulled away, gripping Hannibal’s arms, bringing the man’s attention back to the present.

“Fuck this. I can’t take this anymore, Hannibal. It’s time we come up with a plan. We are going to hunt this son of a bitch. Make him pay.” Hannibal stilled, the horror etched into the lines of his face. For all his own proclivities and fantasies of killing the woman himself, this was… Crass. Rude. The doctor suddenly grinned savagely, lips pulling over teeth in an almost grimace as he thought of the killer at their mercy. _Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude._ He turned to Will, asking the question he had to in order to make sure the younger man knew what would happen when this fight was concluded. 

“And when we catch whoever is doing this? What then?” Will’s smile echoed the animalistic fierceness in Hannibal’s grin.

“When we catch him, we eat. Slowly. We make him suffer for this.” Hannibal nodded, satisfaction curling in his stomach at Will’s open and blatant reply. It was time for the human suits to be shed. They would no longer be prey to the unnamed man behind the savagery he was leaving behind. Grasping Chiyoh’s hands to bring her in, they stood together, the silence an unspoken pact between them. They would not give in to the human need to wait and fear, for they were better than that, and could do more. Today, they would begin a hunt of their own.

As they moved towards the house to gather the materials needed for their investigation of the new body parts, Will sent a silent apology into the air to Alana and the family she was leaving behind. _I never wanted this for you, and knew that if we left you alone, you’d leave us alone. I’m sorry this happened to you. If you’re out there and can hear this, just know that what has been done to you will be repaid a thousand times over in ways you wouldn’t want to imagine. You may have had a hand in making me into a monster, but it will serve me well in the days to come, so thank you for your contributions. And rest easy, Alana. God knows you deserve that much._


	7. Best Laid Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have followed this story. We are nearing the end of the journey, but we aren't there yet.
> 
> WARNING: Graphic depictions of violence.

_Some say the world will end in fire,_

_Some say in ice._

_From what I've tasted of desire_

_I hold with those who favor fire._

_But if I had to perish twice_

_I think I know enough of hate_

_To say that for destruction, ice_

_Is also great and would suffice._

_-Robert Frost_

* * *

The bath helped ease the tension in his back. Sitting in the chest deep water, Will let his mind drift, trying to think of anything except the scene to which they awoke that morning. Alana’s hands, spinning in a grotesque circle as if caught on the wind, were imprinted perfectly in his mind. As he, Hannibal and Chiyoh had moved inside, his concentration kept wandering back to the memory of her wedding rings sparkling in the sunshine. _Is that what will be wrought of my relationship? Is all we ever have going to be blood and death? Is this how we end, at the hands of another killer?_ The phrase he had once given Bedelia kept circling the inside of his mind like a vulture. _You play, you pay. You play, you pay. You play, you pay._ In the wake of the day’s stressful beginning, Will had insisted he needed some time to think and retired to their bedroom, giving Hannibal and Chiyoh the opportunity to discuss what they would be doing moving forward, knowing his inability to focus would only distract them from what needed to be decided. Drawing his knees to his chest, his mind wandered, swirling the water with his hands as he sifted through his memories of Alana; her attempts at friendship to their poorly executed kiss, her transformation from the fall she took from Hannibal’s window on that horrible night. While she had given into her darker urges while working for Mason, she had found solace and forgiveness when she met Margo and they had taken over the Verger empire together. He hadn’t been able to hate her for her mistreatment of Hannibal. In his mind, one good turn deserved another, and he had earned his punishment at her hands. Her wedding rings once again flashed in his vision and he rubbed his eyes, trying to blot out the memories. _You didn’t deserve to die like that._

The door opened and Hannibal entered the room, looking more worn than Will had seen him since his incarceration. Closing the door firmly behind him, he leaned into the wood, hair hanging in his eyes. When he raised them to meet Will’s, the haunted exhaustion made his heart clench. _It seems the great Hannibal Lecter, feared by so many, is human after all.  
_

“My apologies, Will. I know you said you needed some time to think, but in the wake of all that has happened today, I am in need of your company. May I?” Will nodded his ascent, feeling no need to voice what he knew they both needed. Hannibal pushed away from the door and began moving towards the bath, stripping his clothes as we went, leaving a trail behind him. Even with the horrors of the morning, it was hard not to watch the doctor walk towards him with that look on his face and not admit his carnal interest. _Christ he’s attractive. How did I manage all of those months without realizing how much I want him?_ As he reached the water, Will shifted so he could step in. As he settled, his hands reached for Will, magnets drawn to the comfort of his skin. Will drew a sharp breath at the contact, not realizing until that moment how much he craved the other man’s touch, comfortable, comforting, arousing. Nobody in all his years had been able to make him feel like he did with he was with him, as if his blood was fire and Hannibal the bellows. Letting Hannibal arrange him how he needed him, he found himself sitting in the vee of the older man’s legs, Hannibal’s hands working methodically down his spine. They didn’t use words to convey what they both needed, instead letting their hands talk to skin, tentative touches and the loosening of the tightness in muscles melting into the ebb and flow of gentle kisses. Their movements became restless, an edge of desperation driving their kisses, and in no time Will climbed astride Hannibal’s lap, legs on either side of his hips as his hands dove into the older man’s ashen locks directing his head to deepen their kisses. Their tongues coiled as Will drove his hips downward, seeking contact with the hard flesh he could feel lengthening below him. The hot swirl of the water added a dreamlike sensuality of their passion, ebbing and flowing around them in a warm push for Will to rock himself into. The blunt head of Hannibal’s cock brushed against his ass, causing a broken moan to escape his lips. He reached back to direct the doctor’s hard flesh up, pressing into him before Hannibal’s hands came to his sides, stilling him. The older man’s breath came out in an affected gasp, breathy and whispered.

“Will, stop. Without the proper preparation and lubrication, this could prove very painful for you.” Will’s hands covered Hannibal’s at his hips and pulled at his fingers until he relented. He drew them back until Hannibal’s arms were spread out against the back of the tub, back straight as he gripped the cold stone. Will placed his hands on the doctors shoulders and leaned forward to meet his lips, breath hot against his skin.

“I don’t care. I want it to hurt.” 

Hannibal searched his face, finding the answer he needed somewhere within the cerulean pools of his eyes. Will held his gaze as he rolled his hips, teasing the tip of Hannibal’s cock against his entrance. Watching the doctor’s handsome face slacken with want, he rocked down, sliding the mushroomed tip slowly inside, lifting his hips to feel the pull against the protesting ring of muscle. Rocking down, he slid Hannibal’s cock inside him, inch by agonizing inch, letting the deep, stinging ache burn as he brought their bodies flush, fully seating the man beneath him. They stilled, panting into the shared space between their bodies and allowed Will to adjust to the burning stretch as Hannibal breathed a steady rhythm for them both to follow. When the ache began to subside to the delicious full feeling he craved, Will started to move, a gentle rocking of his hips, testing. Hannibal was so satisfyingly large that the slide took his breath, each press a velvet finger on his prostate. Lowering his mouth to the man beneath him, he set a breathtaking pace, feeling the doctor’s desire to place his hands on his hips as he took what he needed. Holding his gaze, he shook his head, ensuring the man beneath him stayed exactly where he needed him. He watched Hannibal’s bloodstained eyes shift from surprise to delight, darkening to raw animal need as he worked him, taking as much as he gave as the aching slide took his breath away. Hannibal’s lips fell open as he tried to speak, but Will licked into his mouth, silencing him with kisses as they drew closer to what they both needed. Hannibal’s breath began to hitch, movements erratic as he timed thrusts upward to Will’s downward movements, grinding into the younger man’s prostrate with an intensity that clenched his stomach with raw need. _It isn’t enough. I need more. I want it all._ Deliberately, Will slowed their movements, working them back to a gentle rocking, letting Hannibal catch his breath, easing him back from that precipice that would be so easy to tip over. He kissed the doctor’s eyelids, his nose, the crest of his eyebrows as he let their blood cool, enjoying the slow rock of their skin. When they could move, he carefully disengaged himself from the man beneath him, taking his hand to help him up.

“Let’s move to dry land. I don’t want to stop yet. I need to lose myself in you for a little while.” He paused, watching the other man’s dark gaze, pupils blown wide with need. Cocking his head to the side, he ran his hands up Hannibal’s arms, digging his nails in just a little, drawing a breathy gasp. 

“ I want you to make me beg.” Hannibal pulled Will to him and kissed him breathless as the tub emptied, drying them both as they all but devoured one another. Taking his hand, he lead the empath to the bed, pulling the covers over their bodies as they came together. 

“Anything, Will. Anything at all.”

***

Hours later, they were laying side by side as the sun had moved high into the sky, beginning its trek towards the horizon. They had fucked all morning, Will riding Hannibal’s cock with such fervor that by the time he emptied himself into the younger man, his limbs were shaking and his entire body had been covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Will took advantage, pinning the doctor’s hands above his head as he teased the head of his cock on the outer muscles of his opening, tugging just his head in and out of him until Hannibal growled, pinned him to the bed and fucked him breathless. Will was still not sated, needing the punishing rhythm Hannibal set for him, howling his ecstasy into the room. He had begged. Loudly, high whining noises issuing from his throat, he had pleaded with Hannibal to let him come, and still he had not relented ( _you will spill from my cock or you will find no relief in me, my love_ ). When his orgasm had finally overtaken him in pure white bliss, he had come harder and for longer than he ever had before. They had fallen asleep, an almost blacked out sleep that took them instantly, only to awaken to hot skin and passionate kisses, ending in Hannibal’s hands pinning Will down to the bed as he slowly fucked him into the mattress, mouth laving at his neck to decorate his skin in a sensual necklace of pink bites. Will now stroked them fondly, skin tingling from the sensations and memories. They finally called a ceasefire when neither could take more, Hannibal curling Will into his arms as they watched the clouds drift from the safety of their bed. Their wild fucking had been just as much a release from the horrors of the past few days as a culmination of their passion for one another. Coupled with the need to feel alive and real, the result was the most satisfying coupling Hannibal had ever experienced. _For all of my days, I will remember the way you look on top of me, taking and giving your pleasure in equal. You are a delight unrivaled, Will Graham._

He kissed Will’s shoulder, drawing the younger man’s attention from wherever his mind had wandered. Will started, drawing a deep breath before turning to meet Hannibal’s eyes. Hannibal wanted to wipe the haunted look reflected back at him, but was unsure on where to begin, feeling, in his own way, the singular and profound loss of the esteemed Doctor Bloom like an ache. He didn’t expect to find her passing painful, as many times he tried to end her life himself, but he had come to the realization that he found that the world was a more interesting place with her in it. Her loss was greater than he could fully comprehend. Will’s eyes held their pain, the horror of seeing her disembodied hands painted on him like a wound. He didn’t want to broach the subject of their plans, but he could procrastinate no longer as he and Chiyoh had decided the best plans were the ones that began without hesitation and struck swiftly. He opened his mouth to speak, but Will silenced him with a kiss.

“I know you want to tell me what has been decided about how we are going to handle this. Believe me, I am on board for whatever you have planned. I just have something I need to say before you begin. I don’t know how you are going to take it, but I have to say it.” Hannibal closed his mouth and waited, heart pounding. _Will he run from me, after all of this?_ _Was this wild day in bed a way of distraction, taking the pain out of his decision?_

Will took a breath, letting it whistle through his teeth as he contemplated where to begin. Praying for strength, he reached for Hannibal’s hands, needing an anchor. He took a deep breath, blowing it out between his teeth. _My name is Will Graham. I am in love with the man I jumped off a cliff to save, I love him more than my own life and will protect everything we can be at all costs._

“What I said on the porch…I want this person, whoever they turn out to be, to pay for what’s happened to Alana. But she is not my main motivation. What they’re trying to do to us… It can’t continue.” Hannibal nodded his encouragement, eyes bright in the light from the windows. “You have to trust me to be helpful. I know when the heart arrived, I panicked and didn’t want anything to do with this entire mess. But after what happened today, I can’t be idle and put you and Chiyoh in danger if I am not willing to jump with both feet into the same dangerous waters. I want you to include me in your plans however you need to. And when you are ready, I want to read the scene outside. I don’t know what I’ll see beyond what we already suspect, but we might get something else from it too.”

Hannibal’s hands carded through Will’s curls, pulling the man closer, his nerves singing with pent up energy and relief from his proclamation. _And thus begins the irrevocable becoming._

“Completely understandable. While I am more joyful than you could know that you plan to participate rather than observe, I find it prudent to discuss with you what Chiyoh and I have decided is the best course of action. We both believe, as I know you do as well, that our Doctor Sanderson is involved in the killing and dismembering of Alana Bloom. However, despite all of the tells in his direction, he does not know enough of me, nor does he know enough about you, to choose such a specific target to torment. What does this tell us about the situation?” Will’s breath caught in his throat.

“Someone else is pulling the strings. Someone much closer to us than he is.” Hannibal nodded, reaching for his hand to graze his lips along his knuckles. _He touches me when he’s nervous. I help calm him._ Will’s heart warmed at the thought.

“That being the case, I also believe in the old adage ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’. We have decided that the best way to discover what has transpired and who may be involved is to bring him here on the pretense of examining the remains for himself. If he believes he is involved and that we are unenlightened to his part, he may reveal more than he intends. If not, we can always… persuade him.” Will’s stomach clenched, eyes widening as he comprehended what Hannibal was telling him.

“You- you want to bring our number one suspect into the house, let him poke at the body parts of someone we both cared about once upon a time, and give you an analysis of what is most likely his own killing. And if he suspects, you want to torture it out of him.”

“Yes. What better way is there to bait a monster to your door than by letting him walk right in and letting the trap shut behind him?”

Will had to admit that there was sound logic to what he he was saying, but he didn’t like it. Putting the people he loved most in the world into any shared space with a man he loathed from the beginning was appalling to him, distasteful in the extreme. If the person who was orchestrating their tragedy was able to discern that they had access and knowledge to his favorite tool of torment, there was a chance they would lose him.

“I hate it.” 

Hannibal snorted. “I knew you would not approve, but it’s the best plan we have. The thought of that man in our home is repugnant.” 

Will paused, thinking hard. “When do you plan to carry out this particular part of the plan?

“I will contact him tonight, and we will wait to see what transpires. I think it best we get him off of the game board as quickly as possible to prevent any further damage to anybody else around us. Do you agree?” Will nodded, looking chagrined. 

“I’m going to hate it until it’s over, so we may as well make that as soon as possible. And Chiyoh? What is her role in this?”

“You aren’t going to like this either, but I want you to think upon its necessity. I am sending her away from the house to ensure Margot Verger and her child are safe and out of the line of fire. She is a creature of incredible focus and discipline, and I fear that Sanderson’s abilities to move within her blind spots may give him cause to taunt her. And Chiyoh rivals both you and me combined when challenged. She would only make our role more complicated than it needs to be, a fact of which she is aware. It is at her request that she is being sent elsewhere.”

“That all sounds fine. We should probably get dressed if you want to get started. I need to read the crime scene before too much more happens to it. It’s been sitting a long time already. Did you move the hands yet?”

Hannibal smiled gently. “No. I had rather hoped you could be persuaded to read what you could from the remains, and yet here you are, doing it willingly. As always, you surprise. Although…” The doctor’s eyes moved appreciatively over the younger man’s skin, leaving a tingling trail in the wake of his gaze. “I weep with the thought of you covering your delectable body in anything other than my skin.” Will laughed and pulled Hannibal’s mouth down to his own, kissing him soundly before rolling out of bed. Padding to the shower to turn it on, he spoke over his shoulder.

“If it’s any consolation, Doctor, I’ll let you choose my coverings.” Hannibal’s eyes gleamed with obvious delight as he rose to join his lover in the shower.

***

Chiyoh was preparing to depart when Will and Hannibal met her in the kitchen. Her face was tight with worry, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she picked up her small suitcase and the much larger carrier holding her rifle. Hiking her bag onto her arm, she turned back, regarded them fondly.

“Take care of one another until we next see each other. Good luck to you both in your tasks that lie ahead. I don’t want to be not guarding your back, but I understand that to draw out this monster, you two must be his bait.” She touched each of their cheeks in passing as she moved towards the door. Looking back, she caught Will’s eyes. 

“Would you please walk with me a moment? I’d like to have a word.” Will raised an eyebrow, but nodded. He took her bag from her as she hugged Hannibal, lips moving close to his ear. He straightened, face unreadable, and turned into the kitchen to prepare them something to eat while Will walked her out. As they moved past the front door and down towards her car, she stopped him.

“Will, I need you to promise me something.” He looked at her, nodding for her to continue.

“This situation is more dangerous than you can begin to fathom. This foe is calculated, cunning and may cause us great harm before it’s over. Hannibal thinks himself invincible, and I think he might be if he didn’t have you at his side. You are his strength and his weakness.” Will began to speak, but she overrode him. “I ask of you two things. The first is if Hannibal tells you to leave, do not argue. You may put him in more danger by being in the vicinity and distracting him from his task. Leave, and keep his safety and your own in your thoughts.” Will nodded, unsure if this was something he could do, but unwilling to admit it.

“What’s the second thing?” She smiled.

“I want you to remember something about yourself. This is a battle, and all warriors approach it with thoughts of their victory, and thoughts of their demise. You have a unique ability, should you choose to use it, to find yourself on both sides of a battle. That will be this foe’s undoing. And above all else, Will Graham. Remember that you are nobody’s prey.” She leaned forward and hugged him tightly, her tension obvious as she released his arms. He opened her door, waiting for her to sit.

“Please drive safe and watch your back. We already know they’re not above hurting others that have been in our lives.” Chiyoh nodded, and starting the engine, wound her way down the road. Will watched her drive away with fear in his heart, sending a little prayer into the air to whoever might be listening. _Keep her safe. Please._ He turned and walked back to the house, mind reeling but ready for what came next. 

***

Although he agreed to read the scene, the brutality of it still took his breath away. Will forced himself to release all of his personal emotions, emptying his mind to let the other take his place. He stared, focusing on each detail; the cuts at the wrists, the slices into the bones, the fingernails, the stitching holding the hands in their supplication. When he could picture the scene with every detail, he closed his eyes. The pendulum swung.

_Why did I take her hands? Hands are something important to me, a body part that is is almost impossible to live without. My work has always required a sure hand, as has hers. Alana’s are both strong and delicate, perfect specimens and easily identifiable by those who knew her. They have both helped and hurt with a gesture, the perfect, fitting sacrifice. Pinning together in a pleading gesture will show that in the end, you begged to keep them. Your doom and chance of salvation are tied to the men who receive them. The obvious religious gesture of prayer won’t be lost on them. You are tied to the recipients by blood and betrayal, and your hands hold out your efforts for them to understand… understand…_

Will’s eyes opened in shocked understanding. Carefully, he removed the hands from the door, taking them into the house as he called for Hannibal. His head began to pound, his face flushed a wild and feverish red. As he rounded the corner, he collided with the man he sought who was wiping his hands on a towel. 

“Will. I was just coming to find you. Were you able to read the crime scene?” Will nodded. 

“I need you to examine these hands now, Doctor. Look for things like lividity, rigor, those kinds of things. Also, her nails are ripped, see?” He gestured to her left hand. “Test the material under her nails, and do it quickly. I will help in any way I can.”

Hannibal nodded without asking, and began performing the tests Will had suggested. He took tissue samples and began to analyze his findings, breath catching in his throat as he understood the empath’s sense of urgency. He turned to see Will behind him, his face tight.

“Tell me, Doctor. What did you find?”

“The lividity of the blood is not what I would have expected to find. Rigor has come and gone which is to be expected, but the second true rigor has yet to set into the musculature.” He indicated to the specimen on the table next to Will’s elbow. Two of the immaculate fingernails were, indeed, ripped to the quick. “I believe that if we were to test the material under those nails, we would find a DNA match for her assailant. Tell me, Will. If Alana had a need to try and defend herself, what does that mean for her?” Will’s stomach tightened, his throat burning. Judging by the look on the older man’s face, he had been correct in his analysis. 

“She was alive when this was happening.” Doctor Lecter nodded. 

“Indeed she was. And was alive when the hands were removed. There is something else, too. If Alana’s hands were removed after the heart, which judging from the the amount of decomposition beginning to set in, they were, that means…:

Will finished for him. “The heart didn’t belong to Alana. There is a second victim.” 

“Exactly so. Please tell me what you saw in the door.” 

“This person specifically chose Alana, but the display itself is… artificial. Like he was trying to build a piece of furniture and didn’t have the directions. It came out close, but it wasn’t his choice on how it was displayed. The knots in the flesh of her hands to hold them together, for example. The stitching is uneven, the fingers coming loose before we moved them. This was hastily done, someone following orders. He doesn’t put the pride into the work as if it were his.”

“Yes. I get the same impression from the materials found on hands. Some of it was supposed to be found. None of it is by accident, but neither is it executed with perfection. The person committing the crimes is not the grand architect, but a simple stone mason. A tool to actualize a vision, but no visionary himself. If anything, the work is sloppy.” 

Will hesitated, not wanting to ask the next question, knowing he didn’t have a choice. “Is it time?” 

“Yes. I have already made the call. I expect when he receives it, he will be intrigued enough to show. It may come without warning, so I want you to be prepared for anything. Can you do that?” 

“This isn’t a game to me, Hannibal. This is about our lives, and the lives of the people who were once connected to us. We can’t let this continue and I won’t play by anybody’s rules but ours.” Hannibal surveyed Will as he spoke, noting with no small measure of satisfaction, the calm resolve that seemed to radiate from his partner, a change that would be unnoticeable to anybody who didn’t study Will with his concentrated fascination. This was no longer a case, nor something he was being forced to endure, but a burden he shouldered with the grace and ease of a man practiced in protecting his family. Hannibal was grateful for the change, instead able to concentrate on the necessary elements of the case than worrying for Will’s sanity.

“Far be it from me to argue, but it is very likely that the orchestrator of the grand scheme that is being executed will see it as such. I need to know if you are prepared to do what is necessary, including playing along if the evening calls for it. Even if you don’t wish to, it may be required of you.”

_If you play, you pay._

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be ready.”

***

They were sitting at the table the next morning, sharing a small plate of fruit and cheese when the knock sounded on the door. Will started in his seat, nervous energy singing along his skin. They had both slept poorly the night before, every sound causing a reflexive alertness to danger, the silence from Sanderson a telling sign that their initial beliefs had been correct. Will had finally gotten up just before dawn, visions of Alana commingling with Abigail’s sliced throat driving him from sleep with a cry. He had gone for a run towards the lake, only to collapse with exhaustion halfway there. He felt stained, knowing that the true horror had not yet begun and still no clues as to who was behind the masterful design of their torment. 

Exchanging a confused glance with Hannibal, Will walked to the door, pulling it open without preamble. Outside stood a very confused looking courier.

Blinking in the harsh light that Will stood framed in, he smiled nervously and held out a package.

“One of you fellas Will Graham?” Will cringed at the sound of his name spoken aloud. Exchanging looks with Hannibal, he nodded and took the proffered object. He moved to close the door only to have it blocked by the man standing in the light. He smiled and held out a piece of paper. “Gotta sign for it, man.” Will nodded distractedly and took the pen, automatically signing his name as his head spun. The man in front of them thanked them and began to walk away. As Will was closing the door, he stopped and turned around, the same confused look on his face.  
  
“I don’t usually ask, but I gotta know or it’s going to be eating at me. Weirdest thing, the guy who came in to request the drop off told me I had to be here at exactly this time. It’s not… like a bomb or something, is it?” Will smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Reaching to close the door, he replied wearily, “No, but it’s likely to be equally devastating.”

He shut the door and turned back to Hannibal, who was eyeing the nondescript paper package clutched in his hands with some trepidation. Will found a letter opener on the counter and carefully sliced into the top, gingerly peeling back the paper so as to not disturb the contents. When he lifted the last of the wrapping, it revealed a nondescript black cell phone, flip style. _A burner phone._ He held it up for Hannibal’s inspection, the man looking as confused as Will felt.

“Turn it on, Will. My guess is he’s left you a message on it.” Will powered the phone on, and sure enough, there was one message blinking in the upper corner. Turning it on speaker, he began to play it back, turning up the volume so they could both hear.

“Hello Will. Hannibal, hello to you too. I know that even though this package was delivered with dear Will’s name on it, you will be listening like the fallen angel on his shoulder that you are. I hate that I can’t be there to see your reactions in person, but leaving like this, knowing that you’ve discovered my secret… It’s much safer this way, isn’t it? Yes, I am the one who sent you those delightful little pieces of what remained of the Verger empire.” Will’s stomach heaved, the little food they had eaten threatening to dislodge from his stomach at the words. They now knew the identity of the second victim. Margot Verger had lived through so much pain in her life that it seemed an even greater travesty to know she died in such pain. He focused back on the message to ensure he didn’t lose his breakfast. 

“Pity I couldn’t get to the child, but he’s away and there is no helping that now. Its not as clean of a job as I would have liked to do, but I am not making the rules, am I?” The voice of Raymond Sanderson filled with bitter resentment for a few seconds before he took a deep breath, releasing it into the microphone of the cell. The sound of him breathing grated on Will’s nerves.

“I didn’t call you from my phone. This is also a burner and I’ll be getting a new number soon. Forgive me if I don’t give it to you this time, Doctor Lecter. Even though I can’t reveal the big finale, I wanted you to know that even though I would have loved to do so, I can’t be a part of it. I will be safely away from you both before death comes for you. I did want to give you one more last present, something you might be able to remember me by if you survive this encounter. If the courier gets to you at the appointed time, and I’m sure he will, you’ll have exactly one day before I make the call to the police about the horrible screams I heard coming from my own home. In it, they’re going to find evidence that you’re still alive as well as my present for you. You’ll be hunted, as you should be, but it won’t be for long. The wheels for your end are already in motion and the best part is, you won’t even see it coming.”

There was a long pause, and Will almost closed the cell phone, but the man continued speaking. “Will, I wish things could have ended differently for you. From what I hear, you are actually something pretty special, but first you let the good Doctor Lecter fuck your mind up ten ways from Sunday, but then you also let him fuck you. I don’t like spoiled goods, so I’m just going to have to cut my losses. I’d say have a nice life, but I know how little of it’s left. Hannibal, you have my address. I suggest, if you want to keep your secrets buried, you get going. Tick tock, boys.”

The call abruptly ended, leaving Hannibal staring contemplatively Will, both wondering if the message spoke truth or if they were going to walk into another trap. Will ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands as he tried to decide what to do next. There was a good chance that they would make it on time to whatever surprise Raymond had left them but if they risked it, they also risked getting caught. On the other side of the pendulum, if they didn’t go, it was all but guaranteed that they were going to be found out, hunted when their lives had barely begun. Making up his mind, Will took Hannibal’s hand in his own.

“We have to go. We can’t leave whatever twisted thing he did to chance and risk exposure so quickly.” Hannibal nodded his ascent.

“This path is guaranteed to have its surprises waiting for us, and I highly doubt any of them are going to be pleasant. We must prepare quickly but carefully. Are you comfortable carrying a gun on you?” Will nodded. 

“Excellent. We will also need to carry at least one blade apiece. While I dislike close range combat, it may become necessary.”

“Alright, but whatever we do, we need to do it fast. God only knows if he’s going to give us the full amount, and we have no idea what we are walking into.” 

Hannibal stood, turned and headed towards their bedroom. “Come along Will. While this is not what I thought when I desired to dress you, I can ensure you are prepared for battle.”

***

The estate they came upon was tucked back into a copse of trees, the tall white columns of the house rising up into the night sky like bones, unassuming but cradling whatever horrors awaited them inside. Hannibal brought the car to a halt and they climbed out, muscles tight with apprehension. Both men were dressed entirely in black down to the weapon hilts that blended with their clothing. Their boots made little sound as they moved towards the front door. At Hannibal’s nod, they silently moved up onto the porch, crossing over the threshold of the already open door. The floorboards creaked ominously, but other than their measured breathing, the house was silent. It appeared that this home had been abandoned with some haste, as everything felt slightly out of place and held the air of the recently neglected. The two men worked their way through the downstairs rooms, moving slowly and methodically so they could try to anticipate any surprises that might be waiting for them, but the floor they were on was empty. There were two options moving forward, and if Sanderson had been telling the truth, they had less than 2 hours to discover why they were there. Hannibal reached for Will, bringing his face close so he could whisper in his ear.

“We have no choice. Would you take the upstairs floor or do you prefer the basement level? We must be quick and thorough, or we won’t make our escape if the authorities arrive.” Will shook his head.

“No. I don’t want to separate, even if we don’t cover all the ground here. If we split up, it’s more likely that one of us will be caught or injured. I won’t risk that. I won’t risk you.” 

“I understand your hesitation, but we have come this far and we need to be sure that whatever was left here for us is not something that will risk our future together.”

“Splitting up is risking our future! Damn it Hannibal, this is the dumbest thing to do. They will work to separate us, and you plan to give them exactly what they want.”

“No, I plan to do what we need to do in order to survive this encounter. To do that, we need to ensure there is nothing to tie us to the corporeal. We are assumed dead. Let us keep it that way. No more arguing. We don’t have enough time. Do you choose the upstairs rooms, or would you prefer the basement?” Will sighed, realizing that he wasn’t going to win.

“I will take the upstairs rooms. There are more places to hide, and I have a gun with me.” Hannibal raised an eyebrow and Will would have laughed if he hadn’t been so worried. “ I saw the knives, I’m not concerned so much for your safety, but if there are walls, there are more places to hide and I feel safer knowing you’re going into a long corridor.” Hannibal nodded.

“I agree with your plan. We meet back in the main hall when our task has been completed, but no more than one hour. If we find nothing, we must leave in that time frame, or we risk being trapped here if the law descends upon us.” Will nodded and began to turn away when Hannibal’s hand snaked out and caught his wrist. He hauled the younger man closer and kissed him soundly on the mouth. “For luck. I will see you soon.” For luck. 

“See you soon. Don’t be late.” With their final words heavy between them, they made their way through the house.

***

Will worked methodically from room to room on the upper floors, trying and failing to not think about what Hannibal was encountering below, praying for his safety in the task at hand. He was almost finished with his sweep, deliriously relieved to encounter only dust and silence. It wasn’t until the last door in the hall that he heard it; labored breathing coming from right behind the wall. Aiming his gun at the door, he turned the handle and let the it swing into the room. Thick shadows filled the space, but he could clearly make out the shape of a person sitting in the center. Raising his gun, he moved into the room. 

“Don’t move. I have a gun pointed at your head. If you breathe too heavily, I will shoot you.”

The figure in front of him turned its head, and as his eyes adjusted, he realized, with horror, that it was bound to the chair. 

“Hello, Will. I didn’t think you would be dumb enough to come.” Sitting before him was the destroyed figure of Alana Bloom.

Dressed in a long black formal gown, her hair pinned to the top of her head, she shed quiet tears as he approached. As he widened his senses, he heard the IVs beeping, running into her bound arms. Her feet were secured to the legs of the chair she sat in, head lolling to the side. As he got closer, Will noticed with horror the chunks of flesh that were missing from her body, blood sticky and pooling where it had cooled on what remained of her skin. Kneeling in front of her, he touched the hem of her dress. She barely started, the IVs apparently administering enough narcotics to keep her lucid, but barely.

He was close enough to see the peeled skin of her arms, the carefully cauterized stumps where her hands had been. Her face had been carved away; her nose, cheeks and lips removed with such neat precision that Will couldn’t help but admiring the work in all of it’s dark glory. The wounds had been well cared for, meant to disfigure but not to kill. The thing in front of him barely resembled the woman she had been.

“Alana, what happened? Who did this to you?” She fixed him with one eye, the other sitting dead in its socket, ruptured and unseeing. He could feel the pain she projected, fear and hatred burning along his skin as if it were a physical force.

“Why are you asking such obviously stupid questions? You did this to me. With that jump and your escape with Hannibal, you sealed my fate and yours. With you off the table, he came for me instead. Everything I wanted was taken from me, all burned to ash while I was helpless to act.” Her voice turned into a sob, furious sound wrenched from her throat. 

“I’m so sorry, Alana. If there was something I could do, some way to turn back the clock and give you the life you had, I would gladly do it. This is not a fate I would have ever wished for you.” She glared furiously at him, dead eye rolling wetly in the socket as she tried and failed not to drool over her ruined mouth.

“You should be the one bound to this chair, Will. You should have had to hold Hannibal’s heart in your hands, watch him rot from the corner while your flesh was carved away. It should have been you here, not me. He does not deserve your love, and you do not deserve to live. He turned you into a killer. And you let him. Lead to the brazier like a lost little lamb.” Despite her horrible fate, anger burned in the pit of Will’s stomach at her words.

“No. The killer was already there. He helped me temper it and showed me that darkness and light merge on the same side of the coin. They are not opposites but compliments, and both need to be fed.”

“You’re both monsters.” Will laughed bitterly, moving away from the shape in the chair.

“Maybe. But tell me something, Alana. How can you sit there, even in the pain you are so obviously in, and tell me that you are completely without blame? You took just as much as I did. Did it not feel good to play god to a man who faked his passions and destroyed your ability to walk without pain? Didn’t it feel good when you could bring him discomfort and shame?” She didn’t bother to respond. 

“This doesn’t have to be the end for you. I can help you. We both can. Finding your hands like they were… it hurt him too. Maybe you were not the object of his affections as you so craved to be, but he also does not want you to die. He grieved for you. Please. Tell me what is going on.”

Alana laughed bitterly, teeth gleaming through the hole that had been cut into her cheek. Will was suddenly thankful for the darkness in the room. He didn’t want the vivid memories that light would have brought.

“I am not going to help you, Will. If you sent Hannibal to the basement, you sent him to his death. All I have is gone. You should lose everything you have too, before they carve you up. Just like they did me. Just like they did to Margo.” Her voice cut into a wracked sob, her body shaking as she cried. Will’s heart went out to her, and he bent down to hug her. Even in her pain, the contact from someone who did not mean to hurt her wrenched another sob from her, a craving for comfort.

“It was Margo’s heart, Will. They took her from me and when I came for her, they took everything from me. My sanity, my hands, my face. It’s all gone. I am just this… monster. This thing you see in front of you. There is nothing left for me on this earth. Not without her by my side.”

Will stood, stunned. The pain she was feeling ripped through him and for an instant, he saw. Alana and Margot had saved one another’s ragged souls, just as Will and Hannibal saved each other. They had married and had a child, did good in the world that had given them a horrible hand. Even in the wake of all they faced alone, together they had managed to create beauty and light, leaving those they touched better than they found them. His eyes filled with tears as he reached out to her and touched her cheek.

“Alana, I know that nothing I say can ever bring her back to you. I can’t heal your pain, but mine won’t bring her back either. God knows we may deserve to meet a grisly end, but I need to know what I am up against. Please.”

The hand on her face seemed to calm her, bring her back to herself in a way she hadn’t felt since Margot’s passing. Her entire being was wracked with pain, both physical and with the unbearable weight of her terrible loss. _If only…_ In that instant, she made up her mind. Fixing her stare on the man in front of her, her friend and colleague, a man she had once hoped to help, she held on to the good that she knew was in him. While Will may have changed, he was not the monster. _There is hope for him, where mine is gone. After everything I did, everything I tried to do, I need to give him this chance. He can give me solace… and vengeance._

“If I tell you, you have to do something for me.”

“Anything. Name it.” Alana breathed deeply, a calm easing its way through her destroyed mind for the first time since Margot’s death.

“Kill me.” He stared at the ruined face of the woman he once loved, a friend when he had no others. He saw the tears coursing down her ravaged face and knew that she couldn’t go on like this. _Sometimes, death isn’t the end, but the end of suffering._ Slowly, he nodded. 

“Don’t shoot me. If you’re to have any chance at all, they can’t know you’re not still being stalled by me. Do you have a knife handy?”

“Yes.” She smiled then, a semblance of who she was ghosting across her face if only for a moment. Raising her undamaged eye to search Will’s, she breathed deep and nodded.

“Try to make it as painless as possible if you can. I don’t need to feel any more pain.” He nodded and removed the knife that Hannibal had handed him as they got dressed, the same knife that Hannibal had used to carve open his side the night that Abigail died. The weight and balance felt good in his hand, and he knew that with it, he could strike a single blow and release Alana from her pain. 

“Close your eyes, Alana. Start counting backwards. When you get to one, you’ll wake and realize it was all a horrible dream.”Alana smiled, and began counting aloud, each number feeling like the hard strike of a clock as it chimed the hour. _And the red death held sway over us all._

As she breathed the last number, Will cut, his strike landing true. He sliced up between her ribs, and into her heart. Knowing she was dying, he caught her as she fell, lowering her gently to the ground.

“Thank you… Will. Thank you for being brave. I hope you live. You and Hannibal both.” As she slipped into unconsciousness, she whispered a name to his ears that turned his blood to cold fire. He watched his friend die, hoping she would find her true love again. As he stood to leave, he turned back one last time. He bent to retrieve the knife from her chest, then left the room without another glance backward. As he sprinted through the house, he hoped he would reach the basement in time.

He was almost to the door that lead below when the single shot rang out shattering the silence with an air of finality. Quelling his panic, knowing it would have no effect on the outcome but only serve to hinder his ability to think, Will sent his thoughts out into the void and descended within the darkened space. 

_Hannibal, hold on. I’m coming._


	8. The Mongoose and the Snake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Extreme depictions of violence.

_Don't think that I can't see you mongoose trying to encircle me,_   
_first in one direction, and then the other, so tactically._   
_I must warn you mongoose that I have a bite that can instantly kill,_   
_and if you don't die straight away, moments later you surely will."_   
  
_"I've heard about your bite cobra, but you don't frighten me,_   
_I have the thickest skin and coarsest hair that you will ever see._   
_I must also warn you cobra that my teeth are as sharp as swords,_   
_combined with my agility I will make you eat your words."_

_-Orlando Belo_

* * *

Chiyoh hated small talk. After so many years of isolation, the finer points of communication had been all but lost to her, especially when it was with people as ordinary as Maeve Allen, one of two people hired to care for the heir to the Verger fortune in the absence of his parents.

“…We haven’t heard from Alana or Margo since they left on their vacation. It’s okay, though. Their son is doing fine. He’s down at the pond on a fishing trip with my husband right now.” Chiyoh smiled at the woman in front of her, grateful that the Verger heiresses had managed to find such caring and competent caregivers for their young son.

“I’m happy that he is doing so well. Normally we don’t have to do house visits like this, but we have had a breakthrough on one of Alana’s cases and we need her assistance. If you hear from her, please have her contact me. Here is my card."

Handing the woman her business card, a nondescript white rectangle with her fake name and a phone number, she looked around once more at the peaceful property. 

“Seeing the life they’ve built, knowing the quality of people they are is always a pleasure. Please give your husband my thanks as well. It fills me with joy that Ryan is well looked after while his parents are away.”

As she stood to take her leave, the woman reached out her hand to stop her.

“There is one thing. There was a man that came by looking for Alana as well. Is he from her office? He said he was a doctor so I just assumed. But something about him… it didn’t feel right. He asked to see Ryan and I refused. It seemed to upset him, but he left without much of a fuss. I didn’t think of it until now.” Chiyoh’s heart stilled. 

“He may be. Can you please describe him to me?”

“Oh yes, I remember him well. Tall but not too tall. Tan with the whitest teeth you’ve ever seen. Brown eyes.”

“Did he offer you a name?”

“He did, but I don’t remember it. I think it began with a P, or maybe an R?”

“Was it Raymond by any chance?”

“Yes! That’s it, Raymond! Do you know one another?”

“We are acquainted. Should he stop by again, please call me. He and I have much to discuss about Alana’s case, and his attempts at interfering.”

“Oh, he’s one of those types, can’t keep his hands out of other people’s business! I will be sure to phone. Thank you for coming by, Ms. Moffett. I’ll walk you out.”

So he had been there. Chiyoh started her car and backed carefully down the drive, attempting to close her mind down and focus on what she knew of the doctor who had treated both Will and Hannibal after their fall. When he turned out to be what he was, her anger had been far greater than she let on, because she had also trusted him. She sat idling in the driveway, thinking.

_If I was a failed doctor bent on revenge, I would not give up so easily in taking what I believe to be mine. I would wait for the boy to be unguarded, so I must be staying somewhere close._

Nodding to herself and turning the car around, she steered the car into the picturesque little town where Margot and Alana had chosen to settle. She had work left here after all.

***

The basement was more cavernous than Hannibal had expected it to be. It had been cordoned off into sections, separate rooms to break up the vast space. Peering into each as he moved through, he found they held medical equipment used for dissection and postmortem body preparation, one room even containing an embalming table, complete with a drain in the floor. The doctor smiled to himself as he let his eyes wander over the contents. _It appears Raymond has moved beyond his need to only copulate and humiliate. How many men have you taken apart down here?_

Making his way down the hallway, he found another with much more of what he expected; an operating suite set up with all of the modern equipment required to keep someone alive under any manner of dire circumstances. He was positive that he was looking at room where Alana had met her end, as well as the mysterious other victim. He was beginning to suspect he knew her identity as well, and lamented at the unnecessary waste of removing two such shining creatures from the earth.

The end of the corridor opened up into a much larger room with a sunken space that looked as if once upon a time, it held furniture meant for entertaining. Now, the space was empty save for a single wooden chair, large enough to be considered a throne, but equipped with straps at the arms and legs. Next to it was an IV machine, full bags already in place. The two objects appeared to be the highlight of the room, the space in which they were contained spotlighted by brilliant lighting hanging from the ceiling. Two video cameras pointed in the direction of the chair, confirming Hannibal’s suspicion that whoever was orchestrating the events that were unfolding was documenting each death for his own enjoyment later. Hannibal drew a sharp intake of breath, suddenly understanding everything. _And who do we know that likes to document conversations to which he should not be privy?_

He reached for the short knife at his back, palming the blade for reassurance of his decision. _So this is where you are hiding. Your moment has come at last. Let’s make the lamb cry, shall we?_ Striding into the room, he called out to the shadows.

“There is no real point in trying to hide from me, Frederick. I know you have a fondness for theatrics, but you’re already becoming tedious.” The shot rang out, narrowly missing Hannibal’s head, causing his forward momentum to cease directly behind the chair. He could just make out two shapes in the glare of the lights; one man standing with a gun pointed at his head, the second sitting in what appeared to be a high quality wheelchair, looking not quite human. The body was misshapen, as if it had met with extreme trauma, tried to give up and was now kept alive and strapped into a chair by sheer force of will. The only thing that resembled the former Doctor Chilton was the hair that graced the top of the man’s head, a crowning glory amidst such ugliness. The voice that floated back to him sounded much the same as he remembered it, except the mispronunciation that surely came when one no longer had his own lips.

“At last, the cannibal emerges. I don’t really care what you find tedious, Hannibal. You are just as predictable. I knew you would come, that you couldn’t resist. All I had to do is throw chum in the water. Your biggest flaw has always been hubris- you think that you are untouchable, that nothing can truly bring about your end. Now though, I believe it to be your love for the man upstairs. I still can’t believe he’s been fucking you. I didn’t believe it was possible for him to buy into your bullshit until I heard it for myself.” Heard it himself… _of course._ It’s all so obvious now.

“You had the not so esteemed Doctor Sanderson bug our house, didn’t you? That’s how he knew to flee rather than to answer our summons. I wondered how he had figured out what we knew so quickly.” Hannibal heard the dry, wheezing laughter from the chair, stomach clenching.

“Yeah, Sanderson is good at being a… how did you put it? Laborer for the grand design. As far as thinking on his feet, he’s pretty useless though. I had to play director far more than I wanted to.”

“Yes, Doctor Chilton. From what I remember, you much prefer to observe and record, take out of context details shared with you to create fictional tales in hopes of accolades of which you are undeserving. Tell me. Did your time with the Dragon not help you comprehend that the true psychopaths, the visionaries of pain and violence are men of whom you should stay clear? Or did the loss of your lips and the burning of your flesh drive you so close to the darkness that you now imagine yourself a wolf amongst sheep?”

“No, Hannibal. There is no imagining what I am now. You, Alana, Will. You turned me into this. You wrecked my writing career by refuting all of the information contained within my book. Alana and Will convinced me to help them with the Tooth Fairy, and I helped them, naively believing that I’d get to gather enough material when he was caught for a second, more truthful book. But they drew me into his web and he left me in ruin. I’m sure you know by now that I’m completely confined to this chair. It’s become my prison, much like the one I tried to contain you in. This one just has a lot more… restrictions.” The ruined psychiatrist’s chest heaved from his speech, the hatred plain in his eyes, as he continued.

“However… although I fell from the higher echelon of the psychology circle, it didn’t mean I was completely without supporters. Doctor Sanderson and Eric here are super fans of the book about you. Hannibal the Cannibal, a man so dark he convinced himself the only escape from the love of his best and only true friend was to eat him. It didn’t matter that it’s not all true. Enough of it is that they would do anything at an opportunity to help the man that had been so brutally savaged in the name of his work. Eric took up a role in the Verger household months ago. His security intelligence got me bugs in their home as well, so I knew what was continuing to happen with the Dragon. I knew you two disappeared and were thought dead. Then lo and behold you turned up in no other place but one of your secret residences, looking for medical attention. As soon as your little protector contacted Raymond, I knew this would be too good of an opportunity to pass up. I had everything I wanted to destroy within my grasp and none of you were any wiser.” Hannibal smiled gently, hands clasped behind his back as he gripped the knife.

“Let me see if I understand the rest of the narrative. You must have had…Eric was it?” The man standing next to Doctor Chilton made no indication that he heard. “A shy boy, I see. No matter. You had him kidnap whoever was easiest to grab, which turned out to be Margot. You must have sent a piece of her to Alana, and she assumed it was either Will or me, that we were not dead but had come for retribution. When she arrived, you captured and drugged her, killed Margot and sent us the first of your presents. Do I have the story correct so far?”

Chilton’s voice wheezed, the volume of speech so obviously taking a strain on his ruined throat and vocal cords. “Yes, you have it right. Raymond was more enthusiastic than I would have liked and didn’t make it last. He cut her throat in front of her wife, though. Then tore out her heart and left the corpse with Alana, so she could remember her fondly. Before he took her hands, he made her hold her wife’s heart. I think that may have broken her, if the disfigurement to her face and body didn’t do that already.” Hannibal’s jaw tightened at the words.

“How very rude, Frederick. What is to be done about that?” Chilton’s throat wheezed in what he could only assume to be a laugh.

“Did you know, that at this very moment, Will is upstairs with her? Probably discovering all the damage she took. She’s still alive, you know. She was the present Raymond left for you. He wanted you to know her hatred for you both, so he figured it would be best to leave her for you to find and end if you were feeling merciful.” Chilton cocked his head to the side, reminding Hannibal of a vulture as he continued. “Do you think Will is going to feel merciful after what she did to you in the hospital, Hannibal? After all the little insults to your sense of taste, your little punishments that she dealt out with impunity? Do you think he will end it, or is he so consumed with what he’s become that there is no mercy left in him?” Hannibal didn’t have to consider the options before he replied.

“He will do what she asks. While he may have a beast inside him, he is, before anything else, a pure empath.” His eyes narrowed, lips drawing back into a snarl. “You knew he would choose the upper floors. Or were confident of it enough to leave her there. You wanted him to see her made into the monster you believe they made you. You wanted their plot to end at his hands. You wanted to see if it would break him.”

“Yes.” 

“Whatever happens between them, I can assure you that it will not be the outcome for which you are hoping. I’m very much looking forward to speaking with Will upon the matter when we meet again.” 

“If you two are to meet again, it will only be because he gets the drop on our fine young man here. Eric, please see to it that the doctor is made comfortable for his end. Once you do, please dispatch of Will Graham. While I would love to watch his demise in person, I will just have to settle for the camera footage later. I do not need him to find Doctor Lecter, or his actions may become… unpredictable.” As the man walked down towards Hannibal, Chilton called to him once again.

“Oh and Eric? Make Will’s death hurt. I want a good show.”

Hannibal tensed, withdrawing the knife from his sheath but keeping it carefully hidden behind his back, a magician’s palming trick he learned at a young age from his Uncle Robertus. He momentarily recalled Mischa’s fascination with it before he felt the stinging shot hit him out of nowhere. Glancing to Doctor Chilton, he realized too late that he was holding a small gun that must release tranquilizing darts. The young man approached as Hannibal’s vision fogged, leaving him no time for the prayer in his heart. As he blacked out, the only thing screaming through his mind was the name of the man above him. _Will. Will. Will._

***

The tension as he moved through the house was so high that Will could have heard a pin drop and his own adrenaline was proving to be a useful survival tool. Although the man stalking him was being as stealthy as he could, he wasn’t quiet enough and Will could hear him approaching, although discerning the exact direction was proving difficult. He was startled when the man spoke to him.

“I can stall you all day, Mr. Graham. It doesn’t matter if you get past me. Doctor Lecter will be dead when you reach him. He’s not dead yet. Doctor Chilton wants to watch the life leave him. But he will be.” Will’s anxiety climbed up another notch, drawing in his focus. Praying he’d be able to do it on this man as well as he could a corpse, Will did his best to quiet his mind and let the pendulum that allowed him to access the empathetic part of his mind swing. For just a moment, he saw with complete clarity what must be going on. Praying that it wasn’t a miscalculation, he braced himself on one of the columns on the wall and spoke to the man in the room.

“I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. We have never met, and I mean you no ill will. If Chilton has set himself up as a victim instead of the predator he is, he’s lied to you.” The man snorted.

“Just don’t. He told me all about your special power, or whatever you want to call it. Think you can take a peek at my emotions and make me see you different? You’re barking up the wrong tree. I read his books. I know what you are. I know what you both are. The world doesn’t need more monsters like you and the way I see it, I’ll get a starring role in Doctor Chilton’s new book. He would have never caught you if it hadn’t been for me.”

Will rotated his location by following the man’s voice. He was now on Will’s right, moving past him in quiet, even steps. He appeared to be trained in some form of combat, but the training was rudimentary at best. Will hoped it was more for show as he rotated further along the pillar, working to put himself at the man’s back.

“Is that what you think is going to happen? He convinced a man that he was a serial killer that he wasn’t. He used psychotropics on me to toy with me, create more insanity in me than what existed. He taunted Francis Dolarhyde to the point where the man set him on fire. How can you defend and stand by someone like that?” Eric bristled at the accusations, stepping forward and searching without his usual methodical movements.

“What are you trying to say? That everything that happened to him was his fault? You told him what to say to the Dragon. YOU told him and you took a picture with him. You caused all of those things to happen, Mr. Graham, and you have no remorse for any of it. But don’t worry. I’ll make you sorry, just like Sanderson made Alana sorry. Doctor Chilton said I could have my turn with you since Raymond got to kill the two bitches.”

While talking, the man hunting Will had obviously gotten so lost in his narrative; he forgot himself and what he was doing. Will moved in behind him, swift and quiet. The first strike from the blade took him in the back, close to the spine. Will jerked the knife up, cutting into as much flesh and muscle as the hooked blade would allow before the man spun and struck out with his fist, catching Will squarely in the stitches on his face. Will grunted in pain, blinking away the bright flashes of light it caused. The other man circled around, trying to get at his back, but he spun and put his back to the pillar, effectively blocking the attack. He would have to come at hi, head on. As much as the profiler knew he could hold his own, he also knew he was wasting precious minutes that Hannibal could be dying below. He couldn’t be careless, but perhaps, he could draw the other man to carelessness.

“You know, Doctor Chilton doesn’t share credit with anybody when he writes. He won’t write you into the new book, even if there is one. Plus he’s such a failure in all aspects, it’s likely nobody will want to publish another book by him, even if it’s about us.” Eric laughed and continued to move, looking for an opening in the other man’s defenses.

“You keep talking and I’ll keep ignoring you. Don’t you realize that there is nothing you can say that’s going to make me believe a word that comes out of your mouth? I know what you can do and I won’t let you inside my head.” Eric lunged, and Will barely moved out of the way in time, but let the other man’s momentum carry him forward. At the last moment, he grabbed his head and slammed it into the pillar behind him with as much force as he could muster, stunning him. He rode him down to the floor, pinning him as the man’s feet beat a panicked staccato rhythm beneath him. The knife flashed in his hands, an extension of the darkness that had been waiting to surface for so long. Will let it take over, fill him, and reveled in it.

“Normally, I’d probably let you go, because you don’t know who you’re dealing with, but I can’t risk you stabbing me in the back below. I know you want to defend Chilton’s actions because he’s somehow brainwashed you into thinking he’s the good guy, but it’s not up to me to make you better. It’s up to me to stop this, and save Hannibal.” The blade came down, biting into the other man’s skin in a wash of crimson gore as his flesh opened. Will’s dark passenger grinned using his lips, pleased with the carnage. He pulled Eric’s hair up, exposing his throat and terrified eyes. The reflection he saw in the man’s orbs resembled how he used to view Hannibal, antlers and all. _Murder husbands indeed._

“I hope you die quickly and you make better decisions in your next life. For now, I have to save mine.” The blade kissed Eric’s throat opening up his esophagus in another wave of slippery blood. As he breathed his last, Will let his head fall to the ground and used an unbloodied section of his shirt to clean the blade, his mind spinning. _Honor every part, but above all, clean your tools._ His eyes blazing, he stepped past the bleeding corpse of a man who never stood a chance and moved to the stairs, praying that he wasn’t too late.

_And into the darkness I will go, to lose my mind and free my soul. I’m coming for you, Chilton. Ready or not._

***

Hannibal’s mind was beginning to fog. No matter how much he fought the disorienting, exhausted feeling the drugs being pumped into his system were giving him, he was losing the battle. He perused his memory palace, in an attempt to block out Chilton’s questions, looking for places beyond the usual that Will may now occupy. He had already revisited his favorite moments; the bathtub as Will had washed his hair, the Uffizi Gallery, the moment he covered himself in the sacrifice of Francis Dolarhyde and merged the light and dark parts of his soul. The place he currently resided, wrapped in a blanket and curled up next to Hannibal while they watched the snow from his penthouse in France, looked like the perfect place to remember the love he had for the man. He didn’t have much longer before he wouldn’t be able to resist the tug to his system, coaxing him to close his eyes. _Will. My love. What I wouldn't have given you, had we been able to be together. I fear now that this is the last place I will find you, and I cannot let you go._ A crash caught his fogged attention; one that did not belong to the vision he currently held. It sounded like running, pounding on the floorboards of the room his body occupied. Rather than focusing on it, he chose instead to kiss the top of Will’s curls and breathe in the warm scent of his skin as the snows fell outside. This was a better place to be than what was happening out there.

_I’m tired, Hannibal. Maybe we should go to sleep._

***

Will sprinted through the hall, ignoring the rooms to the left and right as he passed, knowing the light would take him where he needed to go. As he burst through into the room, a shot rang out and he felt a riot of pain along his thigh as the bullet grazed him. Ducking out of the way, he ignored the man he so desperately wanted to see, hoping that he was still with him. Hannibal looked very cold, his skin ashen, hair hanging in his eyes. Will longed to touch him, make sure he was okay, brush the soft locks out of his face, but first, Frederick must be dealt with. Turning towards the man in question, he stalked across the room, glaring at the misshapen form in the chair in front of him.

“Will. Nice to see you again. You may as well stop where you are. Hannibal is almost gone, but I can make it quicker if you’d like. He’s disappeared into his head. He hasn’t responded in the time since he was strapped to the chair and the drugs entered his system.” The man’s voice grated on Will’s nerves, the raw, wet sound pulled from his ruined vocal cords painful to hear. The gun had fallen useless from his ruined hand, but he had a small pad with buttons held up as far as his hand would allow. Will stopped, waiting. Praying. Frederick smiled, a grotesque grimace of already bared teeth, gleaming through his almost nonexistent lips.

“Good boy. You were always good at taking orders, weren’t you? Even if they ruined your mind and put you in the path of a serial killer, you just did whatever Jack, or Alana or Hannibal told you to do. None of them tried to protect you. They just used you for their own agenda, and you followed along like one of your own dogs, wagging your tail behind you.” Will shifted and Chilton drew back in his seat, clinging to the panel he held.

“See this button? It’s my kill switch. You’re going to leave me with the doctor here, and we can call it even. Even Steven as you two were so fond of saying. I won’t come after you again if you just walk away and let me have him. If you move towards me in any way, I will hit this button and a lethal dose of Sanderson’s special mix of narcotics will be instantly administered to him, killing him instantly. He will feel the helplessness, the pain as the drugs empty into his system. Or you can let him drift off slowly, peacefully. He’s probably somewhere with you, inside that head of his.” Will’s body tensed, but he tried to keep his composure, praying that Hannibal could hold on just a little longer. _Please. Please don’t let it end like this._

“If you know me, Chilton, if you know anything about me is I don’t take kindly to being cornered. Your last big plan is to kill Hannibal? You’re already doing that. He’s close to gone. How do you think you will escape my retribution when he’s the only thing holding me back? You want me to just let you go when this is finished with the guarantee that my life is my own? He is my life. None of you understood, nor did I. The dark that lives inside me that allows me to be close to killers, opens my mind to seeing what they saw? It consumed me until Hannibal taught me how to temper it, and channel it so I wasn’t eaten alive by it. You all wanted to use me for your own benefits; you tried to take me apart like a frog in a biology class, pick apart my mind like sifting through sand for diamonds. You wanted to use my story to make something of yourself. I’ve never been your story to tell. If you press that button, I will kill you slowly. You think his pain will be bad? I’m going to gut you like the coward you are. You’re going to die screaming. You can drop the panel now and I will make it quick. Or you can try your luck and I will make it hurt. It’s up to you, Chilton.” 

“Well, when you give me such fantastic choices, I guess I’ll make it hurt. For both of us.”

The man in the chair pressed into the panel, even as Will raised his gun and shot it out of his hands The machines to which Hannibal was connected sang to life, working to administer the poison into his system. Will leapt down into the pit and turned the machine over, pulling the power from it, and watched as the lights dimmed. Barely noticing the cacophony of sound the equipment made, he moved to the man in the wheelchair. Chilton looked at him with terrified eyes as he approached, the knowledge that it was to truly be his end registering in the last moment before Will’s blows fell, slicing into the ruined flesh of the former doctor of the Baltimore Hospital for the Criminally Insane, each scream he let loose a symphony to Will’s ears. The cuts to his arms were shallow, but the deep slices into his stomach were not. _Scream for me._

When he had exhausted himself in bloodletting, he knelt before the man in the chair, who he reduced to so much meat. _Hannibal would be proud, even if he became unusable meat_ Smiling savagely, he sliced deep into Frederick's leg, the cut severing his femoral artery. His eyes were calm, gazing into the doctor’s face, watching every moment as the life drained from him. Doctor Frederick Chilton, disgrace of the psychiatric community, felt death come for him at the hands of his former patient. His mind screamed in panic as the life drained from his body, down his legs and onto the floor. He tried to form words, but the blood began to pour from between his exposed teeth, bubbling in his lungs from the punctures Will had administered. His eyes shone in the lights he had set up to film the last moments of Hannibal’s life and Will couldn’t help but feel the irony and justice in the kaleidoscopic colors swirling in the man’s eyes. He leaned down and grasped the doctor’s face between his hands, and whispered in his ears.

“Those stab wounds? Those are what you did to Alana. Those are for what you did to Margo. Nobody will ever know what happened to you, Frederick. I’m going to burn this place to the ground with you in it. I will leave you just like this, bleeding enough that you might get lucky and die before the flames reach you. Nobody will ever come looking for you, and nobody will mourn your passing. Your soul is blacker than mine ever was, and you brought this retribution on yourself.” He paused, watching as the horror filled eyes filled with tears, relishing in the way the glistened in the studio lights before turning away to the man he came to save.

Will walked to the machines Hannibal had been hooked to and pulled the needles as gently as he could from his arm. The machine on the ground still beeped and he cursed himself for not removing them beforehand, just to be sure. Hannibal was cold to the touch, but there were shallow breaths coming from his lungs. Will felt for a pulse. Weak, erratic, but there. The chasm in his chest that he felt when he had seen Hannibal’s color cracked wide and he let the darkness in. Slowly, limping from the shot to his leg, he carefully took Hannibal out to the car, putting the unresponsive doctor in the passenger seat and buckling him in. He wouldn’t cry, not yet. There was still time to save him. Time to save them both. Now was a time of retribution.

Will Graham walked back to the house with the cans of gasoline they had carefully packed earlier, and methodically walked through the house, making sure to remove the main computer console as he went. His last act in the house where death came for those left in his past, was to dump an entire bottle of gasoline onto Frederick Chilton’s lap, listen to his last pleas as he stared at him without responding. When the fire went up, it began on his skin. As he walked away, Will hoped he be able to hear the man’s screams from the car. 

Once inside, he kissed the forehead of the man next to him, turned the car on, and backed carefully out the drive. As much as he hated it, he knew what he would have to do.

***

Raymond opened the door to his hotel room, cursing under his breath at his rotten luck. Someone had tipped off the care staff of the Verger brat that he was not who he seemed, and he couldn’t get anywhere close to him. Thoughts of a hot shower and room service emptied from his mind when the leather sap cracked into the back of his skull. He fell forward into the door, and felt the blood running down his face as his nose broke. He closed his eyes and the blackness overtook him.

***

“Can you bring him? He may be our only chance. Don’t worry. Either way we will only need him for a short while. We can decide what’s best after that. Yes. Yes. Okay, please hurry. We don’t have much time and I don’t know what I’m doing. Be careful. See you soon. The door will be open so come right in.”

***

Chiyoh’s car skidded to a stop outside of their home. Throwing open her door, she quickly moved to the trunk and, unlocking it, she dragged a very disoriented Doctor Sanderson to his feet. When he didn’t respond to her initial questions, she slapped him, hard enough to rock the pain from his broken nose back into the forefront of his mind.

“Pull yourself together, Doctor. Your life depends on your actions moving forward. Come along. You have a life to save.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews and sticking with me as I tell this story. Your kind words have kept me going.


	9. Becoming

_Meet me at midnight_   
_In the forest of my dreams_   
_We’ll make a fire_   
_And count the stars_   
_That shimmer above the trees._   
_-Christy Ann Martine_

* * *

“Hannibal, can you hear me? Please, for the love of god, wake up. I can’t do this without you. Please. You are everything to me. Come back to me. Do you hear me? Come back to me. I can’t live without you.”

Tears fell down Will’s cheeks as he sat at Hannibal’s side in the hospital bed they arranged for him in the empty room upstairs. Initially once the most dangerous period had passed and Hannibal seemed to stabilize, Chiyoh wanted to put him downstairs in their operating room, but after what Will had seen at the Sanderson estate, he couldn’t bear it and instead hauled everything to the space it now occupied. He’d been there every day since their return from the inferno he set at Raymond’s house, curled up in one of two armchairs he had moved from the main room downstairs. 

Chiyoh heard the words not meant for her ears, her heart breaking a little each time she overheard one of these quiet pleas. She padded into the room that contained the two most important people in her life but did not disturb Will’s vigil. She doesn’t attempt to get him to go downstairs to sleep anymore, and often finds him in the chair he now occupied, his head resting on the bed and his fingers wrapped around Hannibal’s unresponsive palm. She sat the tray she was carrying down on the table next to him. It contained another small portion of fruit and cheese and a large cold glass of water, cut into small bites so he could easily grab and eat. She’s brought him food every day, but he doesn’t eat much often forgetting it's there as he talks to the older man. She sits with him on some days, talking about the ordeal with Doctor Chilton and what their plans will be for their guest ( _i_ _f_ ) when Hannibal recovers. He refused to allow Doctor Sanderson to treat his leg, confident it would heal on its own. At first it pained him greatly as he forgot to take the first rounds of antibiotics. The little food she's forced on him has mainly been to prevent them from tearing his stomach apart when he takes them. As it’s gotten better, the limp he initially had also subsided.

Surveying the man next to the bed, she knew she would have to intervene today. Pulling her own chair next to his, she sat down and laid a gentle hand on his arm, drawing his attention momentarily away from Hannibal.

“Will, you need to take care of yourself. Please. Hannibal would not want to see you like this.” The pain that the idea caused flitted across his face.

“I’m not leaving Chiyoh. Leaving feels like giving up. What if he were to wake and I wasn’t by his side?” His eyes glazed over in horror at the thought. Undeterred, she tried for reassurance.

“If he shows any signs of waking, I will immediately inform you. But you need to shower at the very least.”

“I don’t-” Chiyoh had been patient with his mania, but Will's refusal was quickly approaching her limit. She gripped his arm hard, causing him to draw a shocked intake of breath as her nails just avoided piercing his skin. Fixing him with a cold stare, she tried again, not so gently this time.

“Will Graham. I once promised to never threaten you with violence after the previous incidents we have endured, and the gods know I have grown to care for you. But if you do not excuse yourself from Hannibal’s presence and take care of the way you smell, before all the divine that witness my actions, I will shoot you. Then you will not have a choice but to go.” She placed an arm on his shoulder, feeling the fine tremors beneath his skin. _He’s exhausted and this can’t continue, or Hannibal will have nothing left to come back to._ Her voice softened, coaxing him back to reason.

“I will stay with him until your return. Please wash yourself and change your clothes. When you come back, you can eat while I redo the bandage on your leg.” Will sighed, his shoulders drooping with the weight of his stress,but also realizing his arguments were futile.

“Fine. You win. I will shower. Happy?”

“Yes, and you will be too. Although… one more thing.” Will raised an eyebrow, and Chiyoh smiled mischievously.

“Don’t use your aftershave. Doctor Lecter purchased one for you, and I think you'll find that it’s a much more tasteful scent. It’s on the counter in the bathroom. I’ve already set out a change of clothes for you.” She gave him a gentle push towards the stairs, watching his eyes when he turned back to survey the scene. She nodded her encouragement and he closed the door behind him.

Once she heard the water start, she sat down next to the man she’s protected most of her life. Taking his hands in her smaller calloused grip, she leaned in and spoke into his ear, her calm voice softened with concern.

_“Don’t you dare leave him. He is broken without you.”_

She kept her careful vigil until Will returned, looking refreshed, but tired. The woodsy scent Hannibal had chosen drifted through her senses, bringing to her mind her campfires out in the wilderness of Lithuania. She marked it as a huge improvement. _Hannibal will love it._ His curls were once again soft instead of shining with oil, falling over his face in a delightful array. His eyes seemed sunken in, dark around the edges, but it was better than she’d seen him look since the fire. She bade him to sit in the chair, then pulled his pant leg up and wrapped the wound Chilton’s bullet made when it grazed him. He hissed only a single sharp intake of breath, but was too numb to otherwise react. He ate with careful but automatic movements, his eyes never wavering from their target as he watched for any signs of waking.

The man in the bed slumbered on.

***

It was snowing outside. Hannibal walked through the halls of his loft in France, searching for the only thing in his world that mattered. His hands were filled with two cups of hot chocolate, the kind made with melted Swiss cocoa, rich and decadent. Will expressed the craving earlier in the day ( _I believe it was today, wasn’t it?_ ) and he can’t help the want to indulge him. The doctor can’t seem to shake the feeling that they are in a kind of stasis here, cocooned in a place beyond time and space where only the two of them exist. He felt no hunger, no thirst, no fear. The only thing he craved is contact with the man sitting by the window, watching the snow come down. He smiled and crossed to him, pulling the red and cream plaid blanket covering his lover’s shoulders around them both so he can take him in his arms. The look on Will’s face is perfect; eyes bright, soft mouth slightly reddened from their earlier passions. Hannibal handed him a mug and together, they watch the scene outside the windows, the glow from the street lamps adding their own ethereal quality to the view. Hannibal, feeling so content he felt no need to break the silence, simply carded his fingers through Will’s curls as they rested together under the blanket. Will’s voice surprises him, low and gentle as if attempting to coax a spooked animal.

“Hannibal… you know I love this place. Spending time with you here has been more than I could have dreamed we would share. But you have to go back. It’s time.” Hannibal’s heart stilled. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he could hear an echo of Will’s voice. The words were incoherent, but the pleading tone in them was displeasing to his ears, so he shut it out, preferring to listen to the man at his side instead.

“And what if I wish to stay here, in this space? I feel as if we could linger forever.” Will smiled gently, setting down his mug to take Hannibal’s face in his hands. The touch felt so good, so real, that Hannibal held onto it as if it were his only anchor to the world.

“You could… but you’d miss out on what can really be between us. You’ve hidden here and let your mind heal. Your body was broken and laced with more narcotics than any person should ever ingest in a lifetime. I think I… I mean the real me by the way… am always going to be grateful that you grew up in a way that required you to have an unbelievably high tolerance for those types of medications. I know you almost died even with it, so imagine the state you’d be in had it not been there. But… my love. You have to let go of the ease of this place and make your way back to yourself. Make your way back to our life. You being like this… it hurts me. I miss you. I want you to be with me, but the only way that can happen is if you choose to let it."

Hannibal considered what the other man said, while turning in his mind the reality that his current existence was in the place between living and dying. That’s surely where he was. _It seems even here, you are my shelter, Will._

“I understand. I will miss this place though.” He glanced around the room, taking in the light quality of the walls in the soft light. He’s never seen the real place like this, never had the desire to visit it in the winter months. Now his heart filled with the need to visit it once again to capture the essence of the place, a room for his memory palace. Humming in his throat, he let his eyes travel back to the windows.

“Is it time now?” 

Will smiled, drawing the blanket tighter around them as he brought Hannibal in for soft kiss. He tasted of chocolate and pure, unadulterated love. The younger man pulled back and rested his head on Hannibal’s shoulder.

“Not quite yet. Let’s watch the snow a little longer.”

***

“Will? Will! I think his fingers just moved.” Will dropped the book he had been reading aloud, instead picking up Hannibal’s hand. He watched his face closely, looking for any signs the doctor could be waking. _There_. The fingers twitched against his palm, a flutter of a butterfly’s wings, but definitely there.

“Get the doctor. Just in case.” Chiyoh left the room, hurrying to the lower level to retrieve their guest.

“Hannibal?” His voice was soft, pleading. The corners of his eyes burned, needing the release of his tears, but Will refused to cry. He’d shed too many tears over the last few days, hoping, pleading that Hannibal could somehow hear him and find his way back to himself. _God, please. This is the last thing I’ll ever ask and I’ll be a saint from this day forward, as long as I can have this man back. That’s all I want in the world._

No more movement came, just the steady raising and lowering of his chest. Will bent to pick up his book once more, not allowing the disappointment quell his excitement. _Too soon to hope. Not enough time to heal. Barely tested clean from the drugs he took…_

“Hello, Will.” He sat up so fast in the chair, his vision blurred for a moment. Not daring to hope, he looked into the face of the man laying on the bed. Weary maroon eyes looked back at him. Will’s heart stuttered in his chest as he reached for the doctor’s wrist.

“Hannibal? Are you… are you really awake?” The man in question blinked slowly, mouth working as if he couldn’t remember exactly how to use it. Will reached back and grabbed a cup filled with water, holding the straw still for him to drink. Hannibal took the water gratefully, taking a small sip.

“Yes, I’m awake, if awake is this. Everything hurts.” He shifted on the bed and Will’s hands came up to help him, easing him back as he sat a little straighter.

“Easy. You’ve been asleep ( _in a coma, I thought you’d never come back to me_ ) for a few days now. Doctor Chilton administered a lethal dose of Sanderson’s special brand of narcotics into your system. I made Sanderson list the ingredients off to me. It was one of the most complex blends of medication I’ve ever seen, and I still don’t know how you’ve survived it.”

“Thank you, Will. I appreciate that you can admire my work.” Will whirled and faced the man Chiyoh led in, the chains that bound his wrists to his ankles clinking as he moved into the room. The sterile white scrubs he wore did little to cover his frame, but he looked healthy enough. Will wanted to ensure he was in peak condition, but was sure to keep him immobilized. He impatiently waved Raymond forward, gratified when the man flinched.

“Don’t talk to me. Just do your job and examine him. If you hurt him…”

“I know, I know. You’ll peel off my skin and make me watch you eat it.” The exasperated tone in Sanderson’s voice made Will want to grind his teeth. Raymond looked at Hannibal curiously, holding his hands out in front of him expectantly. “You need to release my hands if you want me to examine my patient.”

“No. Looking only. If he needs to be touched, Chiyoh will do so and report to you.”

“Fine." The captive man took a step closer to the bed, eyes raking over Hannibal with a precursory glance. "How are you feeling, Doctor Lecter?” Bemused Hannibal looked from Will to Chiyoh, neither of which would meet his eyes. Instead, he turned his tired eyes to the man in front of him. _The faster I answer him, the faster he will go away. Then… Will._

“I am still tired, but feel lucid. I’m sure in the coming days I will need more rest, but I feel no worse for wear. I suspect the lingering exhaustion is a result of the medication that was administered to me. Tell me, Raymond. What did you mix into the IV I was given?” 

Sanderson looked pleased to be asked, and Will found himself getting angry again. It bubbled up, hot and toxic, into his bloodstream, caused him to see red for a moment. _I didn’t know seeing red wasn’t a euphemism. I’ll have to tell Hannibal about it._ He walked from the room to keep from belting the man, but didn’t go far. He couldn’t bear to be away from Hannibal now that he was awake. _His being awake didn’t matter. I can’t be without him, even when he doesn’t know it._ Raking a hand through his curls, he paced the space in the room that wasn’t within distance to strangle Sanderson as he spoke to his patient.

“Oh it was a special blend, to be sure. I've been testing it and perfecting it as I go. Lots of narcotics, though. Controlled substances, you know? Opium, Tramadol, Fentanyl, some Heroin, Morphine… some other, more unseemly things too, mostly things to help you... relax. Some barbiturates, heavy duty stuff. I wouldn’t have used nearly the dose that Frederick administered, though. He really wanted you dead. But as always, you surprised us all.” Gesturing to Chiyoh, through her hands he tested the doctor’s reflexes, pupillary responses, and took his temperature. She listed off her findings in a clipped, efficient voice. Sanderson nodded, turning to Will and addressing him instead of Hannibal, much to Hannibal's amusement.

“Everything seems to be in order. He’s well on his way to making a full recovery.” Will smiled, and even to himself, he could feel the humanity leaving his expression as the darkness crept in. Sanderson’s smile faded off his face as he took a step back.

"That's great news. Very little thanks to you, I might add. Its good to know we can move forward with my threats, though."

“You-yo- you can’t possibly mean to-” Will grinned savagely and stalked around him, stroking down his cheek as he passed.

“Oh, but I do, Raymond. Do you remember what I told you at our very first meeting? What were my exact words?” The doctor burst into tears.

“I- I don’t remember wha-” The fingers stroked down, slowly trailing through his tears.

“Oh but you do. I know you do. Tell me what they were.”

“You said that if anything were to happen to Hannibal under my care- but, I have been taking good care of him, Will. The best care.” The fingers continued their sadistic journey, even as Sanderson flinched away. Will’s grin widened as his hand fell and he tracked the man’s progress away from him.

“You are now, but only because forced. You would have killed him without a second thought. You are a bad person, and you misused our hospitality and generosity. That kind of rudeness can’t stand. But don’t worry, Raymond. Hannibal has to be well enough to cook. This is his specialty, after all. Chiyoh, can you please make our guest comfortable? We won’t be needing him for the rest of the evening.” Smiling, she nodded and lead the doctor away, his chains clanking behind him as he went.

Hannibal’s eyes shone. “I believe that was the most affecting act any person has ever done in my honor.” Will grinned at him, coming back to his side and taking his hands.

“I don’t think he’s been taking my threats seriously until today, but now that he realizes the light at the end of the tunnel is a scalpel, he will keep a civil tongue. How are you feeling, really?” Hannibal allowed their fingers to play between their hands, the touches fragile as glass. The strokes of skin, warm and alive and present filled his soul. _Mine._

“I really am fine, Will. Tired, but nothing rest will not fix." He looked at the man in front of him, noting the dark hollows beneath his eyes. _He likely hasn't slept either._

I do have some questions about what happened once I was incapacitated. Are you okay with me asking now?" Will nodded, breathing deep and meeting his eyes cautiously.

"What became of Doctor Chilton and his young cohort Eric?” Will’s eyes shifted as he straightened his back, releasing Hannibal’s hands. He immediately regretted it, missing the animal warmth of the other man’s skin. 

“Was that his name? I didn’t take the time to find out. After he knocked you out, he strapped you to the chair and administered the drugs into your system. He came out to meet me in the first floor. I killed him.” Will paused, remembering the way the blood flowed over his hands, sticky and black in the low light. “He died gruesomely." Will paused, considering his next words. Cocking his head curiously, he continued. "I didn’t even think about it until a few days later, as I was so worried about you. I dreamed about it once, but it’s nothing like the nightmares I used to have of Hobbs. Even though I did worse to Eric, I feel less about what I did.”

“How exactly did he die?” 

“I stabbed him so he would bleed out, then I cut his throat to ensure it.” Hannibal’s breath caught. _Really._

“And what of the esteemed Doctor Frederick Chilton of the Baltimore Psychiatric Hospital for the Criminally Insane?” Will grinned, an endearingly savage baring of teeth.

“I really like your knife, Hannibal. Even if you did once use it to slice open my stomach.” Hannibal glanced at the shirt covered area he knew held the scar, breath catching.

“Maybe it is because you have tasted the blade yourself that you enjoy it so much. What happened to Frederick? Did he meet the same fate as our Eric?”

“Almost.” Hannibal paused, studying the shine in the younger man’s eyes; soft, inviting, even as they spoke of murder. _You are magnificent when you are your entire self without holding back._

“What do you mean by ‘almost’?”

“Well, I didn’t cut his throat. I sliced open his femoral artery and set him on fire for good measure.” Hannibal’s laugh carried into the space, the room feeling infinitely lighter by its presence. Will’s spirits lifted as he raised the doctor’s hand to his lips and laid a gently kiss on his skin. The very fact that Hannibal had made it alive and mostly unscathed lightened the heavy words he spoke next.

“Alana… Margot. They’re gone. Their son will remain in the care of the family hired to take care of him until he comes of age, but I think it best we stay away from influencing him. It’s because of us that he has no parents.” Hannibal watched as the pain filled his eyes, watched as he started to drown in the awful memories of what happened at Sanderson’s home. His stomach clenching, he thought of Alana; her memory filled his senses with her dark beauty and authority, the woman she became after her fall. He thought of Margot and all of her pain and trouble with Mason. Reaching for Will, he pulled on his arms until the younger man climbed into bed with him. Carefully, they arranged themselves on the space, Will wrapped into Hannibal’s warm embrace. _Healing starts with those dearest to us, and Will is everything to me. We can rise from this, the two of us, move through it and shed it when we have healed._ He kissed the top of the profiler’s head and pulled the blanket from the bed around them. They were asleep within minutes. 

When Chiyoh came to check in on them, her eyes misted with tears at the sight of them entwined. Quietly, she closed the door and went down the hall to rest. Winston was waiting for her, just as he always was. She wrapped her arms in his fur as she let sleep take her down for the first time since their return from the horrors of the past few weeks. _Maybe now, they can finally be together._

***

The breathy moan Hannibal released into the air pulled him slowly from his slumber. His skin felt tight, warm, tingling, begging for stimulation. Will’s clever hands stroked feather light touches down his sides and stomach, lips gently nibbling at the sensitive skin along his neck. Hands wove into Will’s curls, pulling delicately as he felt the doctor’s legs wrap around his hips. Languidly, he kissed along sharp collar bones, working his way across the sleep warmed skin, gently sucking pale pink blotches into the places where Hannibal’s breathing hitched when he touched him. The younger man could feel his cock pressing into his stomach, hard and insistent. He wanted it, wanted to touch and taste, but this wasn’t about satisfaction. _Well, not just about satisfaction. We will get there, but I want to take my time._

“Good morning, Will…Ahhh…” Hannibal’s breath caught as teeth grazed his right nipple, laving tongue issuing a sensual apology to his oversensitive skin. Will’s breath was warm, playing along the damp areas where his tongue and teeth had already traversed. Hannibal shivered in the early morning, light still grey as the sun had yet to begin to rise, breathing ragged, hitching gasps as Will’s delicious brand of torture continued down his torso, fingers working to loosen his pants pulling them off and dropping them to the ground, somewhere off the edge of the bed. When his kisses reached the other man's stomach, he slowed and stilled, eventually rocking back on his heels to survey the man beneath him. With his ashen hair in a disarray around his face, lips dampened from his breaths, chest pink and heaving, Hannibal was a wet dream, a delightful image of a fallen angel, carved from marble and breathed to life, his mission to give and receive the greatest pleasure the world had to offer him. _And he’s all mine._ He ran a hand through the older man’s hair, fingers massaging his scalp, and bent forward to kiss the parted lips so enticingly presented to him. Hannibal let out another moan, the sound reflecting his arousal and impatience. As he raised his arms to direct Will’s attentions, Will caught his hands, pulling them above their heads, effectively pinning him to the bed. Leaning up, he found Hannibal’s ear and ran his teeth along the delicate outer shell.

“Good morning, my love.” Hannibal’s heart squeezed at the familiarity in the term of endearment, the warmth in the voice of the man saying it. His breath came out in gasps as Will’s tongue teased his earlobe, teeth nipping a sharp bite before his tongue eased the ache. He felt the younger man’s strength, the wonderful male comfort of his skin on his own. Will kissed his jaw before moving back to his ear, breath hot and a little desperate.

“Do you feel the bars on the headboard behind you?” Hannibal reached up and felt what he was looking for, the metal cold in his hands.

“Good. I’m going to give you some better memories in this bed before we move back into our own bedroom. Grip those bars for me. Hold on tight and don’t let go until I tell you to. If you do, I’ll stop. Okay?” Hannibal’s breath hitched into his chest, his skin hot and sensitive with erotic anticipation. Slowly, he nodded.

“I need you to say it out loud. Do you understand?” Hannibal chanced a look at him, and found the blue skies of his eyes filled with passion, devotion, love, and a little mischief. He breathed down his excitement, willing himself into some semblance of control.

“I understand. I won’t move my hands without your acquiescence.” Will’s grin was lascivious and a little feral, eyes lighting up like it was Christmas morning.

“That’s a fairly complex word for the early hour, Doctor. Let’s see if I can make you forget you know anything beyond two syllables.” 

He returned his attentions to Hannibal’s body, mouth working down his skin until he felt boneless, weightless and helpless in the wake of the other man’s passions. Each kiss to his chest, his torso, lit an inferno that burned pleasantly along his skin, sending tingles up to his scalp. His cock strained upwards, flushed a perfect, deep red, the head glistening wet with his excitement. Will’s teeth in his hipbones almost undid him, his face tight in his ecstasy. The pleasure climbed further when Will pinned his hips to the bed, disallowing movement as he laved at the tender skin along the delicate bones near his waist. He worked his mouth over the tops of his thighs, dragging lips across skin with just enough pressure to ensure it was pleasurable. He grazed his nose along Hannibal’s balls, inhaling the musky, masculine scent of his body before running his tongue along the seam of his skin, delicately rolling his testes in his mouth. Hannibal felt lightheaded with pleasure, his body tight as a drawstring, silently begging for the touch he needed the most.

When Will finally slid his tongue along his shaft, Hannibal almost passed out from relief and arousal. He felt fingers close over his hips, pinning him in place as Will slid his mouth over the tip of his shaft, holding him down in his attempts to buck up into his mouth. Hardly daring to breathe, Hannibal gritted his teeth and tried to quell the sensations rioting across his skin, but all was futile as Will began to suck; perfect pleasure, lips sliding along his length with a sensual drag that instantly made him want to come. His whole body sang with it, chased the feeling, his balls tightening with need. Will pulled the doctor’s hands off the bars and into his curls, eyes shining with pleasure as he hummed around the head of Hannibal’s cock. _It’s okay. It’s okay to tug, to be restless, to take what you want. Give me all of you._

Hannibal moaned and gripped the younger man’s curls, digging his hands into the silky anchor. Will’s mouth worked him, sliding along his skin until he got close, his breath hitching tightly in his throat. Will, sensing his peak, slowed to an almost stop to suck on his glans, running his tongue in a circular motion along the dip on the underside of his cock that he seemed to find so pleasing. Hannibal’s body was so tight with pleasure it ached. He opened his legs and pulled the other man closer, digging his heels into the bed to thrust into his mouth. Will held still, let him chase his pleasure, relishing in the noises the doctor emitted. Hannibal felt his balls tighten with the need for release and closed his eyes, working himself into the pleasing heat of Will's mouth. Sensing the doctor was at the point of no return, Will caught his gaze and slowly slid Hannibal’s cock into the softened heat of his throat, watching his eyes with only pure love and enjoyment reflected back as he slid his delicious length deeper. He moaned around his mouthful and it was all Hannibal needed; with a breathy gasp, his orgasm rolled over his skin in tingling waves, listening to Will’s moans of pleasure as he drank him down, relishing in his release. He worked him relentlessly, tasting every drop, before releasing him with a wet pop. Hannibal lay flat, chest heaving, completely wrung out with pleasure. Will kissed his stomach, his chest, working his way back up to Hannibal’s mouth. His kisses were soft, pleasing after such an intense orgasm. _So this is how you taste when you taste of me._ Hannibal closed his eyes and lost himself in the warm skin surrounding him, letting it pull him back to sleep. He had never been so satisfied, nor had he loved anyone with the fierce intensity that he loved the man in his arms. Will whispered to him endearments as he snuggled back under the covers, sleepy and content.

Will awoke two hours later on his stomach, restless fingers digging into his hips as a hot mouth laved at his neck. He arched his hips into the touch, moaning as a searching finger wet with lube found its way inside him. His breath hitched as he was stretched open, made ready for all Hannibal had to offer him. 

An hour later, he finally howled his release from on all fours as Hannibal rode him from behind, the merciless pace and angle pounding into his prostate with every thrust. Hannibal counted aloud the each time the word ‘please’ spilled from his lips before he finally relented and demanded he come, hand circling his cock as he fucked him through it.

Two hours later, they finally made it into the shower in their bedroom, laughing as Will got soap in Hannibal’s eyes. The laugh turned to moans when Hannibal pinned Will to the cold tiles, kneeling down to take his cock into his mouth. His eyes widened in surprised when Will gripped his hair and fucked his mouth, the dominance in the move so utterly arousing that Hannibal wanted to weep with the pleasure of it.

The sun had long since set by the time they found their way to the kitchen, wearing pajama pants and nothing else. Their eyes kept their connection when their hands were busy, conversation light and easy as they discussed teacups and time reversal, dogs and the oncoming winter months.

Will made pancakes. Hannibal, much to his own shame and Will’s amusement, burned the bacon. Chiyoh came down at midnight and joined them, stealing the last piece of bacon to feed Winston surreptitiously under the table. She promised to do the dishes so the men could go back to sleep.

Nobody in the house paid attention to the weeping coming from the basement. The night was too pleasant for such histrionics.

***

**2 Weeks Later**

Will was silent as he drove them back to their home. Chiyoh, sat beside him, looked lovely despite the dark shade of her clothing. She lifted the small veil from in front of her eyes and dabbed at her makeup gently.

“I hate funerals. They are a silly custom, especially when all they do is make the living feel worse for the passing of a loved one, make you wear the most uncomfortable clothes you own and ruin your makeup.” 

Will smiled wanly, knowing she was trying to cheer him up, but nothing about today had been easy. The funeral had been a small affair, especially with so little from the fire to bury. Alana and Margot Verger-Bloom were both now resting peacefully and the larger public event could finally be planned. Watching their son come to terms with the reality that the women who were meant to raise him would never come home was heartbreaking. He had stood at their grave site, clutching a small clump of dirt in his fist, and sobbed uncontrollably when he finally released it onto Alana’s coffin. Will had been grateful the actual burial was private and that their son would not have to endure the larger event being held in their honor. It also meant that he and Chiyoh had been able to be present as they said their goodbyes.

Hannibal, although much recovered, was still feeling weak from the trials they had overcome and had requested to stay home and rest, sending Chiyoh with Will in his stead. For all of his dark and savage nature, Will suspected it was also due to the fact that he didn’t want to face the finality of the two women he had been so close to. He had no qualms with Hannibal’s decision. With his remarkably handsome face, he was bound to stand out in the memory of some, and Will knew they both needed some peace and quiet for the time being without people suspecting he was the man that had been on the news. 

They wound their way up the drive, lost in thought. The winter would be setting in fully in another week; already the weather had cooled sufficiently for snow to threaten in the hours without light. Thanksgiving had come and gone, the air of their home filled with the delicious scent of roasting meat and stuffing, pies and potatoes. Will had insisted on tradition; Hannibal acquiesced as long as he was able to make everything from scratch- no cheating. Will had snuck marshmallows onto the yams as they baked, much to Hannibal’s irritation, but he been reluctantly forgiven when Hannibal actually tasted the dish. Will found it endearing that a man with such a sophisticated palate could have such a pedestrian sweet tooth. 

The roast Hannibal had made of Sanderson’s upper leg had been glazed with honey, garlic and cider vinegar, slow cooked until it was so tender, it practically melted in his mouth. The apple stuffing he had made to accompany it was perfect. Sanderson himself had wept as he ate but had been unable to resist, too weak to deny the request made of him. Once he had been sent back below and Chiyoh had retired for the evening, Hannibal had expressed his pleasure in the evening by fucking Will over the table, pants around his ankles as fingers and tongue pried him open until he was loose and soft, begging for the older man to fill him. A hand had covered his mouth as Hannibal pulled his hair and sunk his teeth into his neck as he filled him. He had then fallen to his knees and pushed Will against the counter, filled him with two fingers as he sucked his cock until Will had spilled down his throat, trying to keep both upright and quiet so as to not disturb Chiyoh’s rest. Several days later, Will still had the love bite and often let his fingers wander over its contours, unsure how to ask Hannibal to ensure it didn’t fade from his skin. The mark felt possessive, just above where his collar would have covered it, and he relished in it the way a woman relished in a piece of jewelry given to her by a beloved. The bite felt as if it ran deeper, a brand on his very bones showcasing that he belonged to Hannibal. Body, soul, mind. It was all his for the taking.

They had only finished carving the edible parts from Sanderson two days ago, taking the man’s tongue and liver in a final sacrifice before cutting his throat and letting him drain out. The blood washed down the drain and Chiyoh had rolled the remains out to the garden in the back, the prepared grave cold as she filled it in. In the summer, they planned to plant roses over his body. Will relished in the irony that such an ugly soul would bring something of beauty back into the world with his demise. That night, they had dined on braised tongue and tender liver and onions, simple fare but elevated by Hannibal’s obvious presentation skills. Will had never enjoyed organ meat before their meeting, but found he couldn’t seem to get enough of it as long as it was prepared by his lover.

Finally, they pulled into up to the house, the lights in the windows looking warm and inviting. Will felt drained, both mentally and physically; the idea of a hot bath and a quiet evening in Hannibal’s arms sounded like heaven. He parked the car and stepped out into the icy drive, Chiyoh clinging to his arm to ensure neither fell on the slippery walk to the front door. As he opened it into the house, the heat and heavenly smells coming from within pulled him forward, instantly easing the tension in his shoulders. He helped Chiyoh with her jacket, then removed his own and hung them both in their respective places by the door. He stood for a moment, gazing at the three jackets hanging, the feeling of intense satisfaction stretching his face into a grin, which felt wildly inappropriate after burying his friends. Two strong arms encircled his waist, hands pulling him back against the wall of his lover’s chest. As he leaned into the hold, Hannibal’s voice rumbled in his ear, accent thick, tone pitched low. 

“I never thought you were going to get back. I have missed you greatly while you were absent." He turned in Hannibal's arms and caught a gleam of admiration in his eyes. "However, watching you walk up the drive in that suit makes the wait almost entirely worth it.” Will smiled and placed his hands on Hannibal's shoulders pulling the man closer in their embrace, letting the heat radiating into him ease the sorrow that still engulfed him. He kissed the mouth smiling down at him, nipping gently at the lower lip offered to him before drawing back.

“How do you feel about removing it? I am exhausted from today and would love nothing more than to warm up in a bath, preferably with you. Are you feeling up to it?” Hannibal smiled and released him, taking his hand as he turned.

“As it happens, I had much the same idea and started a bath as you were driving up. I just came out here to collect you.” Will leaned in to kiss the older man’s perfect lips, laying his head against his neck for a moment before passing him on his way to their bedroom.

“You’ve become remarkably good at reading my mind. Let me try my hand at it. I’ll let you take my suit off. You can even take your time." 

"Where does the mind reading portion of that statement come to play?" Will grinned at Hannibal's raised eyebrow. 

“I’ll hang it up before I get in the bath.” Hannibal laughed and lead him towards their bedroom.

“I see now. You know me well. Follow me, my love.”

***

“The shepherd’s pie you made tonight was incredible, Hannibal. I don’t know how you can make such simple food so flavorful but I enjoyed it greatly. Thanks for understanding how much comfort food would help today, too." 

Will paused, taking a small sip from the glass in his hand. "I still hate funerals.”

They were relaxing on the couch in Hannibal’s office, the whiskey from so many weeks ago on the table in front of them, Will’s head in Hannibal’s lap as the doctor ran his hands though his hair. A fire burned low in the grate, filling Will’s entire being with a languid warmth that was working its way into his bones. After their bath, Will had dressed for dinner in comfortable black slacks and a red cashmere sweater that was softer than anything he had ever felt, except perhaps Hannibal’s hair. The outfit was a compromise to get Hannibal into Will's favorite shirt; a light grey v neck sweater than contoured to the man’s delicious physique, giving him delightful glimpses of his throat. He had the sleeves pushed up a little to showcase his muscled forearms because he knew how distracted Will would become at the sight. Will reveled in the knowledge that Hannibal did these small things for his pleasure.

“Thank you, Will. You know I cook so you can enjoy it. It warms my heart to feed you.” The hand in his hair stilled as Hannibal gently broached the subject of the funeral. He had avoided it until Will brought it up, not wanting to cause undue stress but he was curious. “And the funeral? Was it sufficient for the Verger heir to say goodbye?”

“Yes. In their discussions, Chiyoh convinced his caretakers to purchase caskets instead of urns and use the burial plots they had selected. It gave their sendoff a dignified air, and he has a monument to visit should he choose to.” Hannibal hummed, proud of how far the man in his arms had come. The need to ensure Alana and Margot’s son had closure without getting personally involved spoke of his maturity and acceptance that some things had to draw to an end. His hand returned to Will’s hair as he mused, choosing his next words carefully.

“And you? How are you feeling with the ending to this part of your past?" Will sighed, closing his eyes as he envisioned the caskets being lowered into the ground.

"I feel fine. The end they met was gruesome and unnecessary, but the outcome of their passing was... therapeutic." Hannibal hid his grin as he took a sip from his tumbler.

"Now that so much from our past has found its end, what would you like to do?” Will’s breath stilled, contemplating. Looking up into Hannibal’s careful eyes, he spoke the truth.

“I want to travel, at least for a little while. I know you miss being around more company than just Chiyoh and me, so maybe we could do that for a while. Not in the states, obviously. But I’m sure there is somewhere in Europe that you could do what you do. We can play in the upper rungs of polite society for a while, as long as you promise me that we can sometimes come home.” Hannibal’s heart warmed. _So this place is now home for you._

“I have other places that are isolated, Will. Properties that are all over the world. I have spread my wealth with the idea that I would have many comfortable spaces to reside should I need them, including those that would offer me privacy. We can visit any of them, all of them. While I miss the person suit, I want to ensure that you will be comfortable with the return to the world outside what we have here. I can wait, Will. We have time.” Will smiled and shook his head.

“I want you to be happy, too. I’m the one who lucked out here, Hannibal. We can do anything, go anywhere, and you can help me learn to blend in like you do. It will be much easier to sate our mutual dark desires if we choose somewhere more populated for a while.” Hannibal leaned down to kiss the man in his lap, Will craning his neck to meet him halfway. When he pulled away, his face was thoughtful.

“As it happens, I have a place in mind, somewhere I have not visited in many years, but one to which I’d like to return. I’d like to explain why before you say yes, though.” Will nodded, eyes curious.

“When I was ill- more exactly, when I was comatose, I was sharing a space with you in my mind. We were in my Paris loft, a place I haven’t visited in more than a decade. It was snowing while I was with you, and as I spent my time repairing my mind, I spent my consciousness in your arms there. It is located in an area of Paris that only the very wealthy can afford, so it will bring us the isolation you may still crave, but our hunting grounds could be expanded to the whole of the city if we choose.” 

Will’s voice was tight when he replied, the words betraying his emotions. “Are you saying that while you were trapped in your own head, you dreamed of me?” Hannibal nodded.

“Yes. Even in my dreams, you convinced me to come back to you. You will always be my solace, Will. My one true shelter from the world. Beyond any place I have resided, it is no longer a home without you by my side. I couldn’t survive, here or inside my own thoughts, without your love to guide me.” Will’s throat tightened as he sat up, wrapping himself in the doctor’s embrace.

“I will go anywhere with you, Hannibal. You point the way, and I’ll pack my bags. Just please, let’s keep this place. It’s the home where I learned to love you. Truly and deeply.” Hannibal, affected beyond all ability to speak, pulled Will further into his lap and kissed him breathless. When they came apart, Hannibal rested their foreheads together, breath mingling in the air between them.

“Of course. I believe we should discuss with Chiyoh if she would like to remain here. She has a fondness of the lake, and she would be able to care for Winston in our absence.”

“I like this idea very much, Doctor Lecter. And I don’t think I’ve ever spoken the three words you mentioned, not outright. I love you. More than my own life and more than anything that came before you. There is no after you. You’ve changed me in ways that are irrevocable. I will never be the same, nor will I ever be more than what I am with you.” Hannibal kissed his lips, but Will could feel him thinking. He pulled back questioningly, watching a decision cross his lover’s handsome face.

“If that is how you truly feel Will, then I do have one more question for you.” Hannibal Lecter, the Chesapeake Ripper, Il Mostro di Firenze, rolled from the couch and dropped to one knee in front of the man he loved, the only soul he ever met that he couldn’t live without. Will’s eyes widened, understanding and joy breaking across his face like the sun.

“H-Hannibal-” Hannibal silenced him with a kiss, removing the box from his pocket.

“You have to let me ask the question first, darling. Do not attempt to skip ahead to your part.” Will’s eyes filled with tears as he waited, breath held, biting his lip. Hannibal removed the platinum band from the box, held it for Will to examine. The perfect sphere had words spiraling around the inside, words he couldn’t yet read, but already understood. He raised his eyes to the maroon flecked gold gaze, the eyes staring back at him brimming with affection and trepidation. Hannibal reached for his hands, pulling him to him.

“Spend the rest of your days with me, Will. Let me show you what the world can be with us together. In all my life, I have never loved, not truly. Even when I have felt affection, it has paled compared to what I feel for you. There will never be a day that I don’t feel in you the deepest and most profound connection, a melding of mind, heart and soul. In simple terms, you complete me in ways I didn’t know I needed.” Will laughed, breath catching in his throat as he was overcome with emotion at the proclamation.

“You still didn’t ask the question, Hannibal.” Hannibal grinned, pulling the other man to him in a blistering kiss.

“Will Graham, will you make me the happiest man to ever exist, and do me the honor of spending the rest of your life with me?” Will laughed, blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Ever verbose, Doctor Lecter. Try one more time.” Hannibal rolled his eyes, but caught Will’s gaze in his own.

“Marry me, Will. Please.” He slipped the band on his lover’s hand as he reached for him, the kiss they shared soft and unbearably sweet. Will whispered his reply against his lips.

“Yes." They kissed by the fireside, their passion, love and need rolling across their skin, happiness overtaking them. The kisses turned heated, desperate. Will watched the metal gleam in the firelight, his affected gaze reflecting the bright sparks of light as he pulled the doctor to his feet. 

"Take me to bed, Hannibal. I want to know what it feels like to make love to my future husband.” Hannibal smiled, leading him from the room.

“I’m happy to indulge you any time you ask, Will. But I feel I must inform you that you are well acquainted with the experience. This was destined from the moment I laid eyes on you, and every intimate moment we have shared was in anticipation of belonging to one another. I love you more than my own life. More than I thought it was possible to love someone.”

“Your words are absolutely perfect, but I want the sex that comes with the title. Come to bed. Fuck me until I’m yours.” Hannibal laughed, closing the door to the office behind them before they began to make their way down the stairs, hand in hand. The platinum band glowed in the low light, looking as if it had always been on Will’s hand. Hannibal couldn’t stop looking at it, his throat closing with emotion. He didn’t realize that after all the years he spent alone, truly having someone would affect him to such a degree.

As he reached the door to their bedroom, he pulled Will to him and brushed the hair away from his face.

“Will?”

“Yes?”

“How do you feel about Paris?” Will grinned at the earnestness in his voice. Drawing him in, he pushed Hannibal's body into the door, cupping his face as he leaned in to kiss him. Just before their lips touched, he whispered against his skin, feeling the shiver rush up his body as he absorbed the reality of what had transpired that day.

"Anywhere, Hannibal. As long as it's with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last official chapter of this story, but I feel there's an epilogue left, so that will be the final final chapter.
> 
> A huge thank you to all the wonderful people who have liked, commented and followed this story. I love hearing from you guys as I'm working on it. Your emotional responses have been everything to me. 
> 
> Once the epilogue is posted, I'll begin work on a new story. I hope to see you all there.
> 
> Much Love,  
> JM


	10. Epilogue: Redamancy

_Redamancy: (n.) the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full._   
_Redamancy is distinguished from most of the other words about love in that_   
_it is the one of the few that specifies reciprocity._

* * *

**Paris, One Year Later**

  
Will gripped the bags in his hands as he struggled with his keys, attempting to maneuver to the door without dropping any of his packages.

“Can I help you with that, Mr. Dubois?” Will started as the doorman from their building approached, catching the first of the parcels to fall from his arms. Will smiled, grateful to the man that came to his rescue.

“I appreciate it Benny. And you know I don’t mind you calling me Will. I had a little more Christmas shopping to do, and had a few things left on the list for our dinner party tonight. Normally Roman doesn’t leave these things to chance but we’ve both been busy with the renovations to our home since we acquired the additional space.” The older man nodded sympathetically as he helped Will right the packages in his arms.

“Understandable, sir. These buildings have a great deal of history to them, and frankly I am elated that you and your husband have taken ownership of so much of the building. With his love of history and your obvious enjoyment of detailed manual labor, I know that much of the original architecture will be preserved.” Will flushed with pleasure, happy to be making a new space outside of their own walls for Hannibal to see patients. While it made perfect sense to use their home, Will much preferred for them to use the space they had recently acquired so those seeking help from either of them wouldn’t be allowed into their intimate space. More than one person had already tried to push their limits to more than familiar, and they were still attempting to keep a low profile.

The doorman held the building’s large door open for him, and helped him get into the elevator with the button to his floor pushed.   
“Thanks again, Benny. I don’t know what I’d do without you half the time. I’ll let Roman know that we will be hosting you and your wife for dinner next week, while our sister is in town. She and your wife are likely to get along famously. They both have the same domineering personality.” The elderly man laughed and waved him up.

“Thank you again, Mr. Dubois, Will. I will let her know so she can start planning her outfit now. How many for dinner tonight?” Will smiled and felt his mask slip a little. We will be having 10 guests in total ( _11 if you count the man already upstairs, but nobody needs to know about that_ ). They should each have a card to present when they arrive. Please make sure they are not permitted admittance until 8PM sharp. Roman always finds it… rude when guests arrive before he is ready to serve.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be sure to keep them in the lobby space. Have a wonderful evening.”

“You as well, and thank you for rescuing me from my clumsiness.”

“Of course. I’m always here to help.” _And sometimes, you have no idea what you’re helping with._

Will smiled to himself as he exited the elevator and made his way to the main doors that opened into their space within the massive church. When they had arrived, Will had laughed until he cried when he found out what the building had used to be, but he had to admit that the space was perfect culmination of his and Hannibal’s taste. With its brick facade and large, stained glass windows original to the building, it had an old world charm that warmed the modern interiors it now encased. It made the space feel like home. With their newly acquired rooms downstairs, only three residents resided in the massive structure, and of those, Will and Hannibal were the only ones there full time. It made Will’s initial need for privacy much easier to accommodate.

He let himself in, quietly stashing the bags with the last of his Christmas shopping before moving towards the kitchen. He had been delighted to find that Hannibal was immensely fond of the holiday season, and he chanced losing the element of surprise for his gifts if he gave so much of a hint they had been purchased. As it was, the massive, immaculate Christmas tree in the living space had only a few parcels placed underneath, as Hannibal had already attempted to guess what was in each.

When the last of the purchases they would need to complete the meal being served that evening were put away, he made one last stop before beginning his search for his husband. The dining room was immaculately set, fine white china placed on crimson and gold cloth, silverware gleaming in the light from the windows. Their ancient dining table and chairs had once graced the palace of Charlemagne, purchased at auction when they discovered it had once resided in his seat of power in Aachen. Will had snorted when Hannibal recited it’s illustrious history, knowing full well the choice wasn’t for aesthetics so much as it was for the man’s bloody reputation as a ruler. The stained glass that graced the upper portion of the large window space threw kaleidoscopic rainbows onto their furnishings, giving the space a festive air. 

The French Parliament Senator, Jean-Charles Toutain was strapped to the chair at the head of the table. He gave Will wide, wary eyes as he crossed the room. He was still dressed in the bespoke three piece suit in which he had been dressed when he had been taken from his home across the city two days previously. While Paris held it’s breath for a ransom note, Hannibal and Will prepared him each day for the feast they had been planning for the holiday season, the first time they had allowed themselves to choose anyone of high society for a meal. As Will approached, he could see that the politician’s broth had gotten cold in his refusal to drink it. He shook his head and sighed, placing a hand on the man’s bound arm.

“I know that this is of little consolation to you Senator, but you’re making us work much harder to ensure your brain has the proper flavor profile we are attempting to serve this evening.” The man drew in a frightened breath before speaking.

“I don’t know who you think you are, or what that madman you are living with thinks he is doing, but you must let me go at once. They will find me, and when they do, you will be in a world of trouble.”

“Ahhh so you somehow managed to remove your mouth guard as well, have you? That’s fine. I’m going to take your old bowl to the kitchen, and when I return with a new one, I think you’ll find it much to your benefit to have finished it when I check in on you again. I can, of course, force it upon you, but I quite agree with Hannibal. Fear ruins the flavor of the meat.” Jean-Charles’s eyes widened at the use of Hannibal’s real name, recognition and fear filling his face, wiping the arrogant mask away.

“You cannot do this! They will find you out, they’ll hang you for it!” Will smiled and placed a fresh guard, complete with hole for the sipping straw to fit, into the Senator’s mouth.

“I think you’ll find that all of your protestations are falling on deaf ears. We’ve done this before, many times. I saw the recognition in your eyes, Senator. You know who we are. I’m not even concealing my first name. Plus, you have only yourself to blame for your current predicament. Had you not been so unspeakably rude during our conversation at the Gala we attended at the Louvre, you would not find yourself in the situation you are in now. We have a good deal in common, minus our proclivities towards a same sex in a partner… and, of course, the fact we prefer our pork in the long-pig variety.” Jean-Charles began to shake as the understanding of his mortality crashed into him like a blow to the chest. His eyes welled up with tears as he struggled against the bonds holding him to the chair, trying to speak around the mouth piece, perhaps to beg. Will smoothed the hair back from his face, smiling almost benevolently as he inhaled the sharp, sweet scent of sweat and terror pouring from the man’s skin. _Can I really smell it now? Like a beast hunting for prey?_ The thought didn’t scare him as it once would have.

“Don’t ruin your skin, Senator. You’re risking the aesthetics of my table. I will return in just a moment with some more broth. It won’t taste good to you- but it’s an herbal infusion that needs to circulate. Rest assured, it will make you taste better tonight.” The man in the chair wept as Will left the room, taking the bowl with him. When he returned, the other man drank every drop.

***

Hannibal had listened to the exchange in the dining room with a quiet glee, his heart filling with more love than he thought it was possible to hold, almost aching in its abundance. Will’s calm control of the situation made him realize, as he had over the months that they resided in Paris, how far he had come in his transformation into the man he was meant to be. The doctor turned back to the window to watch the play of the snowflakes as they danced in the wind, quieting the thumping of his heart as he waited for the man in question to come to him. Their months together outside of the states had been filled with more life and love than Hannibal knew it was possible to feel. He touched the matching band of platinum that had resided on his hand for the better part of a year, feeling more a part of him than his own skin. The simple engraving that both bands shared reminded him every day of the path that they took to find one another, how the journey twisted and turned, the doubts and fear, the heartbreak and misunderstandings. 

Now, in the wake of his becoming, Will was a completely different creature than he had been; once sullen and withdrawn, filled with anxieties he should have never had to shoulder, the man that walked the halls of their home now was calm, relaxed, and in control. His conscience cleared of the burden laid upon him by Jack Crawford and the FBI, he blossomed, spending much of his time before the renovations below started repairing expensive time pieces for the city’s elite. While Hannibal’s profession opened the door for his clientele, Will’s gentile charm kept his patrons coming back again and again, if for nothing more than enjoying a few moments of his company. Hannibal often marveled at the delicate work his husband’s hands were capable of, especially when he watched him shear flesh from bone when they made time for a fresh kill. The practiced movements were more affecting than those of the greatest painters and sculptors to have ever existed; Will was an artist in his own right.

He sat by the window he now had precisely etched into his memory palace, his shoulders wrapped in their blanket, remembering the terrifying beauty of the scene he just witnessed, playing it in his mind to store away for future perusal. The hand on his shoulder brought him back to himself, his senses wakening to the scent of cream and freshly brewed coffee. Will set the cups down before stepping into his husband’s space, crowding him against the back of the couch. He took Hannibal’s jaw in his hand and brought their lips together in a gentle kiss, a maddeningly soft brush of wet satin. The sound that issued from Hannibal’s throat, low and breathy, spurred Will to deepen the kiss, bracing his knee between Hannibal’s spread legs as his hands found his hair. The blanket fell from around his shoulders as his hands slid along Will’s slim waist, fingers finding their way underneath the soft navy sweater he was wearing. Hannibal relished in the change to Will’s choices in fashion as he came into himself, the new enjoyment he got from dressing in soft materials and stylish jeans and trousers. A little of the woodsman stayed with him in his proclivity for his hunting jacket, but when he threw it over outfits like the one he was currently wearing, the result was undeniably and stylishly masculine.

Will sighed into the touch, tipping Hannibal’s head back further to seal their lips. His mouth was soft, warm, pliant and so pleasant to plunder. The doctor’s hands on his skin always surprised him with how right it felt when they touched. Ever since the trials in their first home, he no longer felt the need to hold back when it came to their passion. He simply had to say _I want_ and Hannibal always provided, no matter what the request. They often spent their days between their varied appointments providing one another with the kind of intimacy with which neither had been familiar until they found one another. Today, it seemed, would be no exception. Taking Hannibal’s hand, the two made their way to the back of the house, into the bedroom they had furnished together and now shared every day of their existence. Hannibal’s own black sweater found it’s way to the ground, Will’s hands tickling along his sides and chest as he pushed the fabric up and over his head. Will’s followed soon after, and both men groaned when their chests touched. Hannibal wove his hand’s into Will’s unruly curls as their mouths melded, Will’s nails digging into the skin at the base of his spine as they deepened their kisses. Will extricated himself to kiss along his husbands collarbones, tongue creating erotic patterns as his hands worked down his body. The sound of his belt was loud in the hushed quiet of their room, and Hannibal’s eyes rolled back a little when Will pressed his palm against his erection. Hannibal’s hands shook as he eased the button apart on Will’s slacks, kneeling down to help him out of his shoes and socks as the rest of his clothes were removed in a whisper. He kissed his way up Will’s calves, nipping his upper thigh as he passed, tongue finding the grooves in the path of his mouth. He found it pleasing to trace the flat planes of Will’s stomach, watching his body quiver and harden at the feathery swipes of his tongue.

Will pulled his hair, close to his scalp and he relinquished his desire to kiss the entirety of the delectable body presented to him. He worked his way back to Will’s mouth as they swayed towards the bed. It was getting time for them to prepare their meal, and the ritual of the kill was almost as important as the presentation of the spread they were going to be preparing that evening. Still, they had a little time, and sating their need for one another was the perfect way to spend it. 

Their coffees grew cold in the living room, the lights of the Christmas tree twinkling on as Will filled Hannibal, spreading him out on his back as he fucked him breathless. Their orgasms were minutes apart, their proclamations of devotion the new normal when they peaked in pleasure. They lay against one another, waiting for their heart rates to return to normal as they kissed, gentle play of lips ebbing and flowing as they breathed. 

As Will stood, Hannibal pulled him back into his arms, kissing the air from his lungs. Will laughed and walked into their closet, returning with clothes for them both, as well as their plastic suits they would need while they prepared the meat. Catching the look on the doctor's face, Will smiled.

“I love you too, Hannibal. There is nothing more I want out of my life than what we have here, together.” He grinned the feral baring of teeth saved for the moments right before a kill and donned the comfortable plastic covering, zipping it to his throat.

“And into the darkness we traverse once again, mylimasis.” Will laced their fingers together as he brought them up to kiss. Handing the older man the bone saw he needed to use to access the politician’s brain, he picked up the curved knife he used for every kill, so often in his hand that it was an extension of his own being.

“Yes, but if we fall…” Hannibal reached for him and kissed his ring, reciting the engraved words they both wore.

“We fall together.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge and heartfelt thank you to everyone who reads this story. I hope you have enjoyed the journey into darkness and redemption as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Since this is the first story I've ever posted, it will always hold a special place for me, as will all the people that comment, like and save it.
> 
> And for anyone curious, this piece actually has a playlist I listened to on a loop, with the ones I've listed below used as inspiration for a specific scene. They're listed below if you want to listen to them during those parts. It... ahem... sets the mood, so to speak.
> 
> 1\. General inspiration that put the idea in my head to begin with - So Far, Olafur Arnalds, Arnor Dan  
> 2\. Alana's death and discovery of body parts - We Must be Killers, Mikky Ekko  
> 3\. EVERY sex scene written- Continuum, Tanerelle (On a loop by itself)  
> 4\. Will and Hannibal's traverse through the house, minus the death scenes- And so It Begins, Klergy  
> 5\. Death scenes for Chilton, Eric and Sanderson- Twisted, MISSIO  
> 6\. Every scene where Will talks to Abigail - Carry You, Ruelle, Fleurie  
> 7\. Hannibal's proposal- Young and Beautiful, Lana Del Rey
> 
> Much Love,  
> JM


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